Reunion
by EmeraldShadows
Summary: AU. Five years postHogwarts, Harry and his friends are invited to a school reunion. How have things changed? RonxHermione HarryxGinny
1. Letters And Reactions

**Hello, everybody! I'm back with my second fanfiction! Hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Once upon a time, I don't own anything…

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_**To Ronald and Hermione Weasley**_

_You are invited to the Hogwarts 5th year reunion! _

_Only those who were in their final year five years ago may attend._

_The exception is spouses/fiancées._

_If you are able to attend, please come to Hogwarts grounds on Saturday, August 20._

_The reunion will be from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm.,_

_A teacher will open the gates for you._

_We hope to see you there._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. Congratulations on your recent marriage._

Hermione re-read the letter, her smile growing wider with each line. She chuckled to herself.

"What's in the mail today, honey?" Ron appeared in the kitchen doorframe, red hair disheveled.

Hermione walked over to him and held out the letter. "Read it," she said happily, smiling at her husband of six months.

Ron's clear blue eyes scanned the neat, curly handwriting. His face lit up.

"A reunion! That's a brilliant idea!"

"I know," Hermione agreed, eyes shining. "I haven't had a chance to catch up with Luna in ages…"

"In other words, two days," Ron teased her. She snatched the letter and hit him with it playfully.

"Oh, you…!"

Ron laughed. "So, we're going, then?" he asked.

"Of course." Hermione moved to the calendar that hung on the kitchen wall. Her eyes flew to the empty square marked "August 20". She tapped it with her wand and said: "Hogwarts Reunion." Those exact words appeared in the box.

She turned towards the table where Ron was now sitting, re-reading the letter that she had discarded on the counter. He looked up at her.

"That means Ginny'll be able to go, then," he said, indicating the line that specified who could attend.

"Yes, and to think…" Hermione thought back happily to that glorious day, the day that they had feared would never happen…Hermione's eyes dulled slightly as she remembered those terrible times…

"To think what?" Ron asked his wife, puzzled.

"They only got married two months ago, too," Hermione said dreamily. "I was crying at the end…"

"I know you were." Ron gave her his "I'm-not-a-complete-dimwit" look.

Hermione laughed. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"I know that." Ron laughed with her. "I know."

* * *

Harry's eyes flew across the letter, soaking up every word. They sparkled in anticipation.

"Hey, Harry," Ginny came up behind him from her spot on their living-room couch and leaned against his shoulder. "What's that?"

Harry turned to her with a smile in his eyes. "We're going to a reunion."

Ginny looked happy and startled at the same time. "A reunion? For Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded.

"Oh, that's fabulous! But…are you sure I'll be able to go?"

Harry smiled at her. "Of course you will. Dumbledore thinks of everything." He showed her the letter.

Ginny clapped her hands excitedly. "Sounds brill! I'll be able to talk to Demelza again! We haven't had a good chat in a long time…"

Harry looked confused. "Didn't you talk to her a few days ago?"

Ginny glared at him and gave no response.

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Draco tossed the letter into the fireplace, where it lay, flames licking at the parchment. A reunion! Who needed that? Draco scoffed at how trusting Dumbledore could be. Invite him to the reunion? Bah!

Draco strode over to the ceiling-high window of his flat and looked out over London. He was glad that his father had, at least, left him the entire family fortune. But somehow he still felt an emptiness inside him, no matter how much money he had. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

Five years ago, his master had been vanquished…and it hadn't been easy…he, the sole survivor, had been shunned from the wizard society, which hadn't been such an awful blow, but for some reason, he still felt alone.

He paced in front of the window. Potter would definitely be coming…he'd read in the _Daily Prophet _about him having married that little Weasley girl. The Weasel would be coming too…with Hermione.

He had also read about another wedding, six months ago. After reading the article, for some reason he was compelled to toss it in the fire. It announced the marriage of Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. For some reason this incensed him. Perhaps it was the mere fact that two of his supposed worst enemies were the feature of the article. Maybe it was that the article mentioned Ron having become a top Auror. Yet he'd found himself staring at the small, black-and-white photo of Ron and Hermione standing together, holding hands and waving exuberantly, the ring clearly visible on Hermione's left hand. For a sheer second he'd pictured himself in Ron's place, arm around her. Then he'd shaken his head vigorously, scolded himself for thinking such things, and tossed the paper onto the table. He could not be thinking such things of a Mudblood like her. It was surely a reaction out of his hatred for her. He nodded, as if to reassure himself of this fact.

But he could still go to the reunion, to shake things up…

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**Excruciatingly short first chapter, I know! This is so not over! I hope you enjoyed it…I'm not very good at writing Draco's POV, but hey, I tried.**


	2. Reunited

**To those of you who may be confused, Dumbledore is still alive. Also, Harry and Ginny have just come back from their honeymoon…just three weeks ago, or so. **

**Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns it all.

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Saturday, August 20 dawned with a blazing sun. The teachers still at the school were up early, setting up chairs and conjuring tables. Then, at exactly nine o'clock, young men and women started appearing with a resounding CRACK in various spots in Hogsmeade. The gates swung open to admit them as they trailed in. By nine-thirty there was a large group of people gathered in the Great Hall. Many excited voices could be heard as people greeted old friends. Suddenly the doors swung open again, and the one person whose name had been on everybody's lips walked in.

But he wasn't alone.

He came in first, messy black hair and emerald green eyes exactly the same as his old classmates remembered him. He had his arm around a pretty, petite redhead who was known for her fiery temper. Both had huge beams on their faces. Walking beside him, smiles just as wide, were the two people who had stuck with him for the whole time; a tall, lanky redheaded boy and a shorter girl with slightly bushy brown hair and chocolate eyes. (Three guesses as to whom I'm talking about…) The girl was holding hands with the tall redhead.

They walked together, talking. Their eyes were merry, but when the people who really knew them looked at the four, they saw the pain in them that would haunt them forever.

Old friends rushed to greet them.

"Harry!" Dean Thomas yelled, pumping the hand of his old friend. "Good to see you mate!"

Dean had dated Ginny for a little while six years ago, and for some reason Harry had been unnaturally cold towards him the whole time. After Harry had started dating Ginny, however, he apologized and the two were now very good friends. None of them seemed at all uncomfortable when Dean gave Ginny a friendly hug and congratulated her on her and Harry's marriage, especially due to the fact that the couple had attended Dean and Lavender's engagement party two weeks ago. Harry and Dean began to talk about (guess what?) Quidditch, and Ginny and Lavender were thrust into conversation.

"He's always talking about Quidditch," Lavender said quietly to Ginny, who rolled her eyes and agreed.

"I know what you mean. Even on our honeymoon, Harry wanted to go to a game!"

"Ooh, how was it? The honeymoon, I mean…I didn't get a chance to ask you about it at the party…"

Ginny sighed happily. "Apart from the Quidditch thing, it was wonderful…Harry can be quite the romantic if he wants to be…"

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Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were immediately descended upon by Justin Finch-Fletchely (A/N: not sure of spelling, correct me plz?) and Hannah Abbot. The two of them were, apparently, engaged. Hermione and Hannah talked for a good twenty minutes before their husbands/fiancées dragged them away, saying that it was not humanly possible to talk that much.

As they walked away through the crowd, Ron caught sight of his sister chatting with Lavender, and immediately headed in the opposite direction, pulling Hermione with him—he neither wanted to see her or have his wife see her. Hermione had been incredibly incensed when he and Lavender had been dating. Admittedly this had helped him admit to how he felt about Hermione, but the girls still had a rift between them.

Ron pulled Hermione away from the crowds, over to the snack table. Hermione was about to inquire as to his strange behavior, but upon hearing a familiar voice behind her was distracted.

"Luna!" Hermione cried. "It's so good to see you!"

"It's great to see you, too!" The two excited women hugged.

"It's been so long!" Luna exclaimed.

Ron and Neville, Luna's husband, exchanged a sarcastic eye roll, before shaking hands.

"…I just talked with Demelza…"

"Oh, how's she doing? I heard that…"

* * *

Draco pushed his way through the crowd, looking for the food table. He planned to avoid everybody. To help him remain unrecognized, he'd donned a set of black, billowy robes, with the hood pulled over his head. He walked as swiftly as he could, considering the volume of people. Suddenly, he heard a voice that he knew well.

"…I heard that she's gotten engaged…"

Draco looked around for the source of the voice. Sure enough, standing right next to the snack table was Hermione Granger, talking to Luna. _Hermione Granger…_that name didn't sound right anymore…with a jolt he remembered everything he'd read. _She's Hermione Weasley now. _He somehow found himself, once again, wishing he could be right there, putting his arm around her, like the Weasel was doing…

Suddenly, Ron and Hermione seemed to be saying their goodbyes to the Longbottoms, and headed right towards him, laughing together. They obviously did not recognize him, but on instinct he whipped out his wand. In his hurry he dropped it, and bent to pick it up. By this time Ron and Hermione looked frightened at having somebody suddenly turn a wand on them. But as Draco straightened up again, gripping his wand tightly as if he might drop it again, his hood fell back, and Hermione gasped.

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"You!" Hermione screeched, obviously very startled.

"I never thought you'd show your face," Ron snarled, his hand plunged into his robes for his wand. Hermione, however, grabbed it and drew it out.

"No." Ron stared at her, as did Draco.

"No?" Ron repeated. By now a large crowd had gathered. Some had taken out their wands as well.

"Give him a chance to tell us why he came," Hermione spat at him. Draco flinched—for some reason her harsh words hurt a thousand times more than Ron's did. "Then you can hex him."

"All right," Ron agreed. "So, Malfoy, why are you here?"

"Uh…uh…I don't really know," Draco said truthfully, every fiber of his being now urging him to curse Ron into next week.

"There. You see? He can't even give an answer—"

"What the bloody hell is going on here?"

All heads turned towards Harry, who had fought his way through the crowd and was now standing, observing the scene: Draco, his hand clenching his wand inside his pocket; Ron, who had an expression of disgust and anger mixed together; and Hermione, who looked rather frightened but wore an expression of disgust as well. Ginny was hovering behind Harry, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Harry, what…I can't see…"

"It's okay, Gin…" Harry said to her, but she nevertheless managed to squeeze through. When her eyes found the scene, her reaction was almost identical to Hermione's.

"You!"

"Okay, I think we've all waited long enough," Ron growled. "Malfoy, pr—what the bloody hell?"

Draco seemed to be staring at Hermione. His eyes had glazed slightly. Hermione turned beet red and whipped out her wand as well. Ron, however, flew off the handle completely.

"BLOODY PRICK! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL D'YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Draco came to his senses and leveled himself up. By now most of the crowd had their wands drawn on him. At the exact same time, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Justin and Hannah all shot curses at him. He was blasted off his feet and flew over the snack table, landing hard on the ground. Ron made to run after him, but Hermione held him back.

"Ron, relax…he's not worth it…" Despite her weary tone, it was obvious that she, like all the others, had received immense satisfaction from cursing Draco.

"What is going on here?" The unmistakable voice of Albus Dumbledore rang out behind the tightly packed crowd. People cleared a pathway for him as he strode towards the center of attention.

"What happened here?" he asked sternly. Ron spoke up first, his face bright red.

"Headmaster, he…Malfoy was…"

"Being a prat, like usual," Harry offered.

"He drew his wand on Ron and I, Headmaster…" Hermione added.

"Plus, it felt really good to curse him again after all these years…" Ginny put in. Harry laughed and smiled at her.

"Ah, I see." Dumbledore's voice was stern, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. He walked over to the crumpled young man and bent over him. Straightening up after a few moments, he raised his wand and out shot a silvery phoenix.

"Go to Madame Pomfrey," he instructed the phoenix. "Tell her to ready a bed for an injured former student." As the bird flew off out the open doors, he turned to the crowd.

"Could somebody please levitate Mr Malfoy to the Hospital Wing?" he asked kindly. Hannah reluctantly agreed.

"Ah, thank you, Miss Abbot…oh, please pardon me, soon-to-be Mrs Finch-Fletchely?" Hannah blushed and nodded before waving her wand. Draco's limp body floated into the air and she guided it away.

"Um, Headmaster, we can explain—you see, Malfoy was—"

"There is no need for an explanation, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said, that familiar twinkle back behind his half-moon spectacles. "I can let it pass this time. And," he added to the crowd in general, "please call me Albus from now on. Since you are no longer students, I see no need for you to call me 'Headmaster'."

There was a general murmur of assent from the now-happy crowd. The tightly packed group thinned out slowly. Ron pulled Hermione aside, into the Entrance Hall.

"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry for acting like that…I mean, I shouldn't have…" Ron's stammers were cut off as Hermione placed a finger on his lips.

"It's okay," she said, smiling. "You've always been protective of me. I'm glad you are."

Ron smiled at her, then swept her into a kiss. They stood there, unaware of anybody else, in one of the many moments meant only for them.

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**Feather finger-I know it's you! You were probably too lazy to log in…I do that sometimes too. **

**Mrs.Ginny Weasley-Potter-One million thanks!**

**Troubled Tazzy-I don't like Draco/Hermione, not at all, but I thought I might throw in a little drama to shake things up! Thank you for your comments.**


	3. The Beginning Of Their Story

**Hey y'all! Here's the long awaited chapter 3!**

**Disclaimer: You know, these really get boring…you all know what I am going to say, so I'll spare you my sarcasm.

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When Ron and Hermione arrived back in the Great Hall, it was to find the crowd milling about as usual. They melted back into the throng and mingled with old friends for several minutes. Suddenly, Dumbledore, who had been standing behind the snack counter, sipping a glass of mead, set it down and tapped it lightly with a nearby fork. After several seconds, a hush fell over the crowd.

Dumbledore smiled, then opened his mouth and spoke. When he did, his deep, wise voice reverberated around the hall.

"I am very glad to see you all here," he began, smiling around at the assembled crowd. "I'm sure it has been very exciting for you to see all of your old classmates again. However, I would like…"—at this point he waved his wand and a platform appeared under his feet—"…to have the people who, I'm sure, everybody has been curious about, to tell us of the past five year's…happenings."

A ripple of muttering ran through the group. They all knew whom Dumbledore was referring to.

"I do not want any of them to be mobbed by curious former classmates, and the _Daily Prophet _is rather poor at telling the truth," Dumbledore continued. "So, I would like to invite up the three people that gave us the freedom we have today, and the one who was there for him whether they liked it or not…I think you all know to whom I am referring, so would Harry and Ginny Potter and Ron and Hermione Weasley please approach this podium of sorts…"

The four made their way up to the platform amidst thunderous applause. Harry helped Ginny onto the platform with Ron and Hermione, then turned to face the crowd and cleared his throat.

"Well, I think we should begin at the end of seventh year…"

Flashback

Harry stared out of the compartment window, trying to see through the thick raindrops trailing down the other side. Ron and Hermione sat across from him, neither daring to speak. Silence hung thick around them.

Suddenly the compartment door slid open, and Ginny came in. Ron and Hermione turned, but Harry merely concentrated harder on the rain-washed window.

"How's he doing?" Ginny asked Hermione quietly, sitting down next to Harry.

"He hasn't talked to anybody yet…" Hermione trailed off and looked at Harry anxiously as if he might drop down dead any second.

Ron made a shushing motion to both girls and they fell silent again. Harry focused hard on the little bits of greenery that he could see flashing by and contemplated the last two year's events…

Voldemort had been gaining more power over the last year. Harry knew that he would have to face him once he left Hogwarts. Actually, Dumbledore was the only reason he was still there—the Headmaster had convinced him that he should stay and complete his NEWTs. Harry was almost certain that Dumbledore had had another reason for doing this, but he had not questioned further into the matter. Harry trusted Dumbledore's judgment, especially since Snape had almost killed him last year. Harry knew he would have to face Voldemort, and he wanted it to happen sooner rather than later. That was why he was almost feeling upset over the fact that he was going to the Burrow first. Arrangements had already been made for Harry and Hermione to go home with Ron and Ginny—Fleur and Bill were holding a baby shower party, as Fleur was two months' pregnant. Harry had a feeling that they had planned this so that Harry, Ron and Hermione would have one last chance to see everybody before they left.

Meanwhile, there was the strain of Harry's personal and social life. Over the past year, girls had stalked Harry wherever he went. And though Ron found this incredibly funny, some did not leave him alone either. Thus, Hermione spent a lot of time with Ginny. Both seemed to have major issues with Harry and Ron's popularity. Harry had assured himself that Ginny was only angry in her brother's case—after all, the two boys did not enjoy their growing popularity amongst the girls at all. Hermione and Ginny were fast friends, and they could often be seen walking together whenever they could. When Ron once asked Hermione why she was spending more time with his sister than her supposed best friends, her simple response was:

"One, because girls can't seem to leave you alone, and two, because Ginny and I have a lot in common."

With this she had turned on her heel and stalked off. Ron had stared after her for a good two minutes before Harry managed to break him out of his trance.

Harry was growing increasingly frustrated with Ron and Hermione. He had been dropping increasingly obvious "hints" to Ron—"Boy, I sure hate being followed around by all these mad girls, don't you?" "You could never like any of them…any of our _friends _that you might consider…?" Often after Harry said things like these, Ron just nodded distractedly. It was obvious, by looking into his glazed-over blue eyes that he was thinking of the very person that had always been there for him. Why couldn't he just admit to his feelings for Hermione? It was apparent that she felt the same way—_more _than apparent, actually. So why didn't Ron just tell her?

Yet, at the same time, Harry knew that he had a similar problem. He knew that Hermione confided in Ginny about Ron. He had caught small snippets of their conversations—"Ginny, do you think he'll ever feel the same way?" Ginny's responses ran something like this—"He's my brother, he's really thick…" They never allowed Ron to hear these things, and whenever they caught Harry listening in, they shot him identical "don't-you-tell-anybody-about-this-or-we'll-rip-your-head-off" looks. Still, Harry sometimes caught a twinkle in Ginny's eye as she looked at him…before Harry was forced to run for it, for fear that Hermione might attempt to jinx him.

He also knew that Ginny and Hermione did seem to have a lot in common. So if Hermione confided in Ginny, might Ginny be feeling the same way about somebody? All Harry really knew was that if he, Harry, ever found out who it was, he would jinx the bloke into a jelly. Harry had no explanation as to why he felt this way—surely he felt protective of Ginny, after all they had been through together. But whenever he found himself wishing that there was something more between them, he shook them away and tried to ignore them when they attempted to push their way back into his memory again. Right now, however, he ignored the little, sensible voice in his head that was screaming, _She's Ron's sister, prat! His SISTER! _and allowed his mind to wander off to happy visions of him and Ginny, together…

"Harry."

Harry ignored the voice, staring dreamily out of the window.

"Harry."

He shrugged off the small, warm hand that had rested on his shoulder a second ago. However, it came back, and shook him gently.

"HARRY!"

Harry jumped at the sudden loudness of the voice and turned sharply. Instantly his green eyes met deep hazel and he jumped back again. Ginny's worried face was inches from his own.

She quickly removed her hand and backed away. "Sorry…"

Harry relaxed; he hadn't meant to startle her. "It's okay. Why'd you shake me, though?"

"Well, erm, the train's going to be arriving soon, and you seemed pretty distracted…" Ginny shifted uncomfortably and Harry was suddenly aware of the fact that they were alone in the compartment now.

"Where're Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Hermione's gone to tell off some first-years and Ron went to talk to Dean in another compartment…"

Harry flinched. Ever since Dean had started dating Ginny, in their sixth year, he had had an inexplicable hatred for the boy. He still did, even though Ginny and Dean were no longer together—he had hated to see Ginny hurt.

Ginny frowned at him. "Why do you—" she began, then trailed off in mutters, looking frustrated. "Never mind."

The train jolted and slowed, and Harry stood up. "Here," he said shortly, lifting Ginny's trunk off of the luggage rack and setting it down in front of her.

"Thank you," Ginny said quietly, bracing herself against the compartment door as the train rattled to a stop. When it finally did, she slid open the door and silently exited. Harry kept his back to her the whole time, while silently cursing himself for not saying anything more.

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**Whew! Another chapter done! And since I do have an opportunity to explain things, the four will skip right onto the battle…the following chapters are not part of their descriptions. Hope this doesn't confuse you!**

**Felix-hortensio-Thanks sooo much! Your comment helped, I do agree it does sound a little cheesy, I've made the changes.**

**Frankierocks19-What else can I say, thanks!**

**Featherfinger-In response to your chapter 2 review, well, Draco was really checking Hermione out, Ron is very possessive of her and I wanted to bring that out. Also he knows that Draco has a bit of a dirty mind, so he just got really mad. For your chapter 3 review, thanks so much for your idea! As you can see, I've used it. Please send me your character name and personality and I'll work them into the next chapter somehow!**

**Mrs.Ginny Weasley-Potter-Draco doesn't really know why he was there, it was mainly because he kind of likes Hermione now (but you know how Draco is lol) but he came just to see what was happening. Draco is really lonely now, you know, so he had little else to do…**


	4. Fights And Confessions

**Hey everybody! Here you go, chapter 4! I hope you like it. It's still in a flashback, just so nobody's confused. THIS CHAPTER WAS NOT DESCRIBED BY THE FOUR, remember that!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything.

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_The train jolted and slowed, and Harry stood up. "Here," he said shortly, lifting Ginny's trunk off of the luggage rack and setting it down in front of her._

"_Thank you," Ginny said quietly, bracing herself against the compartment door as the train rattled to a stop. When it finally did, she slid open the door and silently exited. Harry kept his back to her the whole time, while silently cursing himself for not saying anything more._

Throughout the whole trip back to the Burrow, even through Mrs Weasley's teary greeting, Harry's mind had wandered back to this moment. There had been a catch in her voice when she had spoken. Was it because she was worried about him? He somehow knew that, one day, he would have to tell her how he felt. Was it the right time? He knew that the window of time that he still had with her was shrinking fast. It was then that he decided to talk to her, and explain everything. He had not forgotten the day, only a few before the end of school, when he had been forced to tell her about his decision…

_There she was, sitting by the fire, her glossy red hair spilling over the edge of the couch. Her hazel eyes reflected the dancing flames. She sat alone, looking so vulnerable. Harry cleared his throat and walked slowly over to her, words and phrases running round his brain. None of them sounded right._

"_Ginny?" Harry asked quietly. At the sound of her name she looked up and smiled at him. He took a seat cautiously next to her, keeping a distance between them. She looked at him quizzically. He did not return her gaze when he spoke next, but kept his eyes on the fire._

"_I-I need to tell you something," Harry began. He could feel her eyes boring into him, questioning, wondering._

"_What sort of something?" She shifted and coughed._

"_Well, it's…sort of hard to say…I want you to hear me out, and not interrupt." Harry finally met her gaze, and instantly regretted it. He did not want to get lost in her deep, innocent, beautiful eyes again._

"_I'm listening," she said quietly. You could have heard a pin drop._

"_Well, I…remember, two years ago, in the Department of Mysteries?" _

"_Ye-ah…something about a prophecy…"_

"_Well, that prophecy was about me. It said that…I'm destined to meet Voldemort in one final battle…and only one of us will survive. It's him or me."_

_Ginny gasped, and Harry could see her eyes fill with tears. "Oh, Harry…"_

"_And…after I finish Hogwarts, I'm going to meet him. I'm going to destroy his Horcruxes and I'm going to fight him."_

_Ginny made no attempt to stop tears leaking from her eyes. She remained silent, however._

_Harry took a deep breath and continued. "Ron and Hermione have insisted on coming with me. But I'm not going to let them get hurt. This is my battle…my choice."_

_Ginny shook her head disbelievingly. "Harry…why? Why do you have to?"_

"_It's my destiny," Harry responded shortly._

"_But…why?" Ginny's voice broke, and her body shook with a heavy sob. _

"_Ginny…" Harry began, then broke off as he watched her sob into her hands. He didn't know what else to do, besides put a comforting arm around her. She looked up as he did this, eyes pleading. Suddenly, her expression changed from that of an innocent girl to a determined young woman._

"_I'm coming with you," she said firmly, wiping her tears. Harry drew back, though he was not surprised._

"_No you're not, Gin," Harry said quietly. _

"_And why not?" Ginny asked in a deadly whisper. "Why can't I come? I want to fight, too! I don't want to die an innocent, helpless—"_

"_I can't let anything happen to you—" Harry felt a lump in his throat. _

"_I'm not a little girl anymore, Potter," Ginny spat viciously. Harry tried to ignore her deliberate, harsh way of addressing him, but could not quite manage it._

"_I know you're not, Ginny, but I don't want you to get hurt—"_

"_You think I don't feel the same way?" Ginny's voice grew louder, and she stood up. "You think I'm going to let you waltz off and leave me behind?"_

"_This isn't easy for me, Ginny!" Harry yelled, standing up as well. "If you got hurt—"_

"_Oh, I can understand now!" Ginny shrieked. "You're not my brother! I don't care if you feel all protective—"_

"_It's not like that!" Harry cried, and instantly regretted it. Ginny flared up again._

"_Well, what is it then?"_

_Harry stopped, mouth half open. _Tell her how you feel, _said the little voice inside his head. _

She'll freak again, _he thought desperately._

"_You're my best mate's sister!" Harry yelled, scrambling._

_Ginny seemed to visibly deflate. "Oh."_

"_I-I can't let you go! Ron wouldn't like it, either—"_

_Ginny's eyes were burning. "All right then! You go off, leave me behind, the little sister, the tag-along! I don't care!" She turned on her heel and stalked off, leaving Harry to collapse in an armchair and bury his head in his hands, completely unaware of the small, sleepy-looking crowd of Gryffindors that had gathered to see what the fuss was about._

Since then he and Ginny had stopped being mad at each other, but still avoided each other. Ron and Hermione, who had heard their argument clearly, seemed nervous around the two. Harry regretted yelling at her, but it had been hard to control himself—she hadn't taken it well.

* * *

When they arrived at the Burrow, Harry unloaded his things from the trunk and made his way up to Ron's bedroom alone. When he had dumped everything on the floor, he lay down on the cot set up for him and stared at the ceiling.

He was pulled out of thought five minutes later, when Ron tentatively entered the room. He sat down on his bright orange Chudley Cannons bedspread and eyed his friend.

"Erm…how're you doing?" Ron asked carefully.

Harry rolled over, ready with a sarcastic remark, but upon seeing the look on his best friend's face, his shoulders sagged and he sighed.

"Sorry. For—everything."

"S'okay." Ron smiled, then faltered. "But really, how are you doing?"

Harry heaved another sigh. "Not good."

"Look, mate." Ron shifted. "I'm scared, too. But if this is what you want to do—"

"It's not just that." Harry sat up.

Ron stared at him. "What is it, then?" When Harry hesitated, Ron sighed. "You can tell me."

"Well, I don't think you'll like it…"

"You can still tell me."

"Okay…well, promise not to rip my head off, or anything?"

Ron smiled. "Promise."

"Um, okay…well, I'm really worried…see, there's a girl, and…she's really close to both of us…and I think…well, okay, I think I'm in love with her…"

The smile faded from Ron's face and was replaced with a menacing look. "It's Hermione, isn't it?" he growled. "You know, that promise wasn't entirely fair…"

Harry looked at his friend and laughed. Ron stared at Harry. "What's so funny?"

"You—actually thought—"

"What, it's not Hermione?" Ron relaxed, though he still looked confused.

"Of course not! Hermione's practically my sister..."

"Oh." Ron looked happy. "Good."

Harry, glad to have an opportunity to change subjects, said, "Why are you so curious?"

"No reason." Ron looked uncomfortable; he was turning an interesting shade of red. "That's off topic."

Harry chuckled.

"But anyways, if it's not Hermione…blimey, mate, I never knew you liked _her_…"

Harry, assuming that Ron had guessed correctly, said, "So you don't have much of a problem with it?"

"Well, Luna _has _always had a soft spot for you…"

Harry clapped a hand to his forehead in exasperation. "It's not Luna, prat!"

"Who, then?"

Harry sighed. "Please don't tell your brothers…they'll rip me to shreds if they knew…"

"Why would they—" Ron's face dawned with understanding. "It's Ginny…" he breathed.

Harry nodded slowly, bracing himself for the inevitable blow. It never came.

"Blimey…" was all Ron could manage. "You…Ginny…bloody hell."

"Don't kill me," Harry said quietly, getting up from his cot and moving to the door.

"I won't…you know, she's never given up on you."

Harry smiled, relieved. "Thanks, mate."

* * *

Ginny trudged up the stairs towards her room, keeping her eyes on the ground. She'd had to rid her mind, repetitively, of a certain black-haired, green-eyed boy, who was, incidentally, her brother's best friend, and the cause of all her headaches. She couldn't place how she felt towards him—if he was just a friend, why did she melt whenever he smiled at her? Why did she feel those pleasant tingles whenever he touched her? Why, above all, was she so emotional over his decision to leave and go on this "quest"? She had been so hopeful that night, when they had been yelling after he'd told her about it. He had, obviously accidentally, let slip the fact that there was another reason why he did not want her to come with him, besides him feeling like an older brother to her. She knew that he had no feelings for her apart from those of an overprotective brother. So why…

She reached her door, and entered to find Hermione sitting on her bed, immersed in (guess what?) a book. When Ginny slammed the door behind her, Hermione flinched and looked up.

"Something bothering you?" she asked mildly. Ginny was ready to vent all her anger and frustration, but instead allowed her face to crumple. Hermione set down her book, stood up and quickly gathered Ginny in a hug. Ginny sniffled; a few tears made their way down her cheek.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked soothingly. She kept an arm around the emotional redhead as she led her to her bed and sat her down. Then she sat next to her.

Ginny looked at her friend, and suddenly found herself pouring out everything: her confusion over Harry, the way he'd looked at her when he told her he had to go…everything. Hermione merely listened and nodded sympathetically. When Ginny finished, she took a deep, shuddering breath to control herself.

"It's okay, Ginny…" Hermione said. "Harry has been under a lot of pressure lately."

"Me, too," Ginny said, trying to calm herself. "If only he—" She was cut off; Hermione was staring at a photograph on Ginny's dresser. It was of Ginny and Ron, taken in the summer before Ron's third year. They were standing in a desert, a large pyramid in the background, waving enthusiastically.

"Um, Hermione?" Ginny waved a hand in front of her friend's face; she was snapped out of her trance.

"Oh! Sorry…"

"It's okay." Ginny smiled. "I know."

Before Hermione could respond to this, there was a small knock on the door. "Come in," Ginny called, without thinking to ask who it was. The door creaked open and Harry's head appeared, looking cautious. Ginny jumped up, startled. She had almost forgotten he was here.

"Um…dinner's ready…" Harry said quietly. He then quickly withdrew his head and shut the door before either Ginny or Hermione could respond.

* * *

**Okay, there you have it, another chapter. Hope you liked it.**


	5. By The Lake

**I'm really trying to make my chapters longer! Seriously.

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The next week passed entirely too quickly for everybody. On the night before the party, Harry decided to take a walk to clear his head. He strode quickly down the hill towards the lake, breathing in the crisp, refreshing night air. When he reached the lake, he sat on the cool grass, legs crossed, and looked out across the still surface. He leaned forwards so that his chin was resting on his palm, elbow on his knee. For a sheer second there was complete silence as he pondered the single ripple that the wind had creased on the sheet of water. Then, all of a sudden…

"Harry?"

He raised his head abruptly and glanced around wildly. His eyes found the small, redheaded figure standing behind him and he relaxed.

"Ginny! You scared me…"

"You looked like you were meditating or something…" Ginny chuckled to herself, then cautiously walked over and sat next to him, careful to keep a distance between them. Without meeting his gaze, she tucked her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, looking out at the water as Harry had done. Harry expected her to say something, but when she remained silent, he spoke his mind.

"Why did you come?"

She looked at him, surprised. "I saw you coming down here, and I thought you…well, I thought you might want some company…" She seemed to realize how lame this sounded, and sighed.

"Look, Ginny, we need to talk. Seriously."

Ginny's expression was unreadable as she turned to him, but the second hazel eyes met emerald she smiled.

"I know. That's why I came down here. I have things to tell you…I know that you do too. And we need to be truthful with one another."

Harry couldn't help but smile at this. She always seemed to know when the time was right.

"So. I'll go first," she began. "Why are you so protective of me? Why are you so worried about me getting hurt? You said it wasn't that you somehow think that you're my brother, that night…" She trailed off and looked at him expectantly.

Harry cleared his throat and looked away. How was he supposed to answer that? Should he tell her how he felt about her? He knew he couldn't lie, just…embellish the truth a little.

"Um. Well." Harry swallowed. "I suppose I do feel protective of you…I mean, we've lived like brother and sister for so long…I couldn't stand you being hurt…" He trailed off, unable to find something else to say.

Ginny looked crushed. Harry's heart went out to her. "Protective…like Ron is of Hermione?"

Harry looked round at her, startled. They both knew how Ron felt about Hermione, and that was why he was so protective of her…

Ginny's hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide. "I-I didn't mean it like that…" she stammered.

Harry debated with himself. How could he phrase this?

"It's okay…" he finally said, looking around to see her looking very relieved. Just then, a gust of cold wind tugged at them, and Ginny, being dressed in only jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, shivered. Though Harry wore much the same attire, and was equally chilled, he nevertheless moved closer and hugged her to keep her warm. Ginny seemed surprised at the contact but melted into him. Harry enjoyed the way she felt in his arms, but when she drew back and smiled at him, he knew it had been the right thing to do.

"Thanks." Ginny's smile was warm. "Now, you go."

"Why are you so desperate to come with me?" Harry inquired, looking her in the eye. "Why are you so worried about me?"

Ginny seemed to have been ready for this, for she drew in a big breath.

"Well…like you said, you're almost like a brother to me…what bothers me the most is this prophecy. Why were you chosen? Why couldn't it have been somebody else? You don't deserve this…I-I just wish that you hadn't become the Boy Who Lived at all…I wish you were just Harry…"

Harry smiled, thinking back to the moment on that God-forsaken rock when he had insisted to Hagrid that he was "just Harry".

"Anybody would be worried about you…" Ginny continued—she looked tentative now, as if she wanted to say something but was scared of his reaction. "But…you have no idea how I would feel if…if you didn't come back. Harry…I…I know you've always thought of me as a little girl…your best friend's sister…somebody who just tags along. But I still…I always wished that…there was something more. I knew there never would be, but I still wished it. And now…you're leaving, you might never come back…and if you didn't, I could never move on…I've never given up on you. I know…it's obvious that you know that I had a crush on you…but I don't anymore. I've been through hardships with you. And through that, I was figuring out how I felt. I now know that I love you, Harry, and it might be too late to say it…"—Ginny's voice shook—"I was afraid, I knew that you'd never feel the same…" Ginny stopped speaking abruptly and her bottom lip quivered a little.

Harry gaped at her. He knew that now would be the right time to tell her…if only his jaw would close and his voice box start functioning…finally he shook his head, trying to eliminate the feeling of happiness rising inside him. Ginny must have mistaken it for disbelief, for she scooted away from him and stood up.

"Harry…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have bothered you at all…"

"No, don't go." Harry rose as well and placed a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from turning away from him. His eyes met hers, and he began:

"Ginny, I don't know what to say…I do want you to know that, in the past year, I didn't see you as just the little sister. I don't know what it is about you…I don't want to leave you, and I don't want you to leave, either. If you died…you have no idea, absolutely no idea how hard it would be for me. You mean too much to me. I guess what I'm trying to say is…I love you, Ginny…it took a lot for me to realize it, but now I can tell you."

Ginny stared at him in disbelief. "What did you say?" she breathed.

"I love you," Harry repeated firmly, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of him.

"Harry, I don't know what to say…"

"You don't have to say anything." Harry smiled. "I'm never leaving you, Gin. Not really. Even if—even if I die, I'll still be with you."

Ginny's eyes brimmed over, though they were shining with happiness rather than grief. "Oh, Harry…"

Harry pulled her close to him. Her face was inches from his own, with the distance growing shorter as he dipped his head down. Their lips were millimeters apart when Harry heard a voice behind him that he definitely did not want to hear.

"Oi! What do you two think you're doing!"

Harry cringed and backed away from Ginny quickly. Turning, he found himself looking at Fred, George and Charlie, some ten feet away amongst the sprinkling of sapling along the water's edge. All wore menacing expressions.

"Um…I—"

"Save it," Charlie growled through gritted teeth. "We all know perfectly well what you were _trying _to do with our little sister."

"_Trying_," George repeated, advancing slowly, hand gripping his wand.

"Get away from Harry, all of you!" Ginny shrieked, rushing forwards and standing in front of Harry. "What are you doing out here, anyways?"

Charlie carefully avoided her question. "We're just—"

"Being overprotective, _as usual," _Ginny spat. "You leave us alone! Whatever is going on between Harry and I is none of your business—"

"Oh, so there is something going on?" Fred asked. "And it actually is our business—"

"How would you like it if I spied on you and Angelina?" Ginny retorted smoothly. Fred turned a lovely shade of pink and hastily turned to his brothers.

"Erm…she's right, guys, maybe we should leave them alone…"

Fred and George immediately departed, the latter grumbling furiously. Charlie hung back and took Harry aside.

"Look, Harry mate…this is all fine and dandy with me, so long as you don't try anything unless she's ready. If you do, I will rip you to shreds. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded, feeling uncomfortable. "Charlie…she means the world to me, you know I'd never do that to her…"

Charlie smiled genuinely at him. "I know."

After Charlie departed, Ginny came up to Harry, who still looked very uncomfortable, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry about them…"

Harry faced her. "It's fine…"

"Way to spoil the moment," Ginny muttered. Harry heard this and grinned uncertainly at her. She returned it encouragingly. Harry didn't need to be told twice.

Harry crossed the distance between them easily, gathered her into his arms and kissed her.

The second their lips met Ginny felt a wonderful swooping sensation. It was as though she was being lifted high into the air by some invisible, gentle force. She felt lightheaded. She didn't know quite how it had happened; all she knew was that this was the happiest she had been in a very long time. When she had been with Dean or Michael she had not felt like this. Whatever it was about Harry that made her feel this way, she was going to hang onto. She was going to hang onto him. He wouldn't get away that easily.

* * *

Ron watched Harry and his sister out of his bedroom window. He sighed sadly. Why couldn't he just do that with Hermione? They had seemed to be talking beforehand, and then...Harry hadn't made it look that hard...

_I can just get her on her own at the party tomorrow night, and talk about it…maybe something more, too… _Ron tried to tell himself that this would work. _It will work. I'm almost sure of it._

_Almost…

* * *

_

**There you have it. This chapter took forever to write. I wrote a whole other scene where Ginny falls into the lake, but I thought it was way too cheesy and overused.**

**Featherfinger-You auditioned for Luna? What was it like? How many people showed up? Did you see who got the part? Sorry…you must feel like you're in Russian Interrogation or something... Thanks for your review.**

**Troubled Tazzy-I know, they are all so clueless, well, this chapter narrowed it down to 2. It will take a while for Ron and Hermione to get together, judging by the fact that in all of the 6 books Ron has not made a move yet…**


	6. A Clean Slate

**I'd like to make an important announcement, I realize that this story was meant to be told by individuals to the rest of the audience, but I found that that just did not work with the scene I was imagining, so…the beginning of the chapter should clarify that. Sorry if this confuses you, but it needed to be done. THEY JUST DESCRIBED THE BATTLE SCENE AND THAT'S IT…as I say, the next few chapters should clear that up for you. If it doesn't, don't spew nasty comments at me…I'm doing my best here.**

**Also, I do know that I said that this chapter would focus on Ron and Hermione, well, I lied. It WILL, but I really need to wrap up Harry and Ginny's part first. It shouldn't take too long. Sorry! There will be Harry/Ginny moments, but that's it. This chapter will begin back at present time, remember that… And to close this off, the beginning of the flashback in this chapter will begin right after the end of chapter 5.**

**Disclaimer: Running out of sarcastic things to say here…

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"…and, well, that's all…I don't think you want a play-by-play of everything…" Harry finished.

The crowd made several distinct noises: sighs at a happy ending, gasps of surprise at the story. Dumbledore approached Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry. All were standing on the podium (which had widened to make room for all of them).

"Wonderful story," Dumbledore said happily. "I think we have all enjoyed hearing it, however, I will not delay any of you any longer in socializing opportunities…"

As the four mingled back into the crowd, their minds wandered back to those days of fear and fighting, of mystery and mistakes, when they knew nothing about the future…

Flashback

The next morning Harry awoke with a jolt in Ron's familiar room, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. His eyes were wide with fear. He breathed deeply, telling himself that it had only been a dream.

Ron mumbled something incomprehensive, rolled over and opened one bleary eye to look across the room at his best friend.

"Whassat?" he asked sleepily. Harry slumped back onto his pillows and did not respond at first.

"Whassamatta?" Ron retained the same half-awake tone as he said this.

"Nothing…just a dream…" Harry bent his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"About what?" Ron seemed more awake now, and genuinely concerned. "I know you're…kinda used to nightmares, but…"

Harry finally decided to make eye contact. "It was about…Ginny," he said heavily.

Ron raised one eyebrow. "What about her?"

"I dreamt that she…I had to watch Voldemort torturing her…" Harry dropped his head into his hands.

Ron was silent. "Gee, mate…I wish I could say something…"

"Do you know how hard it is?" Harry posed this question abruptly. "Do you know what it's like to watch the only girl you've ever loved being hurt? Tortured?"

"Yes," Ron responded quietly, looking frightened that Harry would have one of his well-known anger fits again.

Harry froze. Of course. Hermione. How could he have been so stupid?

"I know what it's like," Ron continued shakily. "Only a few nights ago…Malfoy came to her house…busted the gate…even though it was just a dream…" Ron trailed off and shook his head, turning away.

"I'm sorry, mate…" Harry felt horrible. "I know how much Hermione means to you…"

Under normal circumstances, Ron would probably have denied that it was Hermione hastily, whilst sporting the trademark Weasley blush. But this time, he knew it was true, and merely nodded.

* * *

After a huge breakfast, Harry and Ginny snuck off together. Ron watched them go with a resentful eye. He knew he should be happy for them, but it was difficult. Nobody else had noticed them go, as far as he knew.

Ron wandered the house aimlessly. The party preparations were not underway yet. Ron had planned to start over with Hermione this summer; give himself a clean slate. Now he wasn't so sure how easily this goal could be achieved.

After twenty minutes of climbing the stairs, pausing at the top, and coming down again, of picking up the iron rod to poke the fire only to find no fire in the fireplace grate, Ron decided to get a breath of fresh air, and headed for the shed.

He rummaged amongst the old brooms in the lopsided little shed until he came across the broom that had, obviously, been placed there by his mother, and that had served him two years of Keeper duty. He strode determinedly up towards the empty field that served as a Quidditch pitch for the seven Weasley children. He mounted and kicked off. He could never be anywhere as good a flyer as Harry, but two years of playing for Gryffindor had given him some amount of skills.

He soared in circles and loop-de-loops, enjoying the cool wind that played with his hair and stung his eyes, forcing him to squeeze them halfway shut. He opened his mouth and took a gulp of cold air.

Unfortunately, something else happened…

All of a sudden, the wind gave a spurt of energy and blew several leaves in Ron's direction. They hit him squarely in the face, and one flew directly into his open mouth. He coughed and spluttered, taking his hands from the broom. It went wild, flying in all directions. By the time Ron had regurgitated the leaf and placed both hands securely back on the broom handle, he was speeding for the ground, straight at…

* * *

Unbeknownst to Ron, Hermione had also seen Harry and Ginny sneaking away together, and though she had not heard anything from Ginny, she put the pieces together. She wasn't called the smartest witch of her age for nothing. She was happy for them, but somehow felt a twinge of jealousy…in her mind's eye was an image of her and Ron, smiling and laughing, holding hands…

She lay down on the tattered couch in the living room. However, her hopes of pleasant, Ron-free sleep were for naught; the minute her eyes fluttered closed she found her mind whirling with thoughts. The harder she tried to push them away, the more they filled her ears and mind, spiraling out of control…

Hermione gasped and sat up. Her head was swirling; she felt a pounding sensation in her brain. She touched the sides of her head lightly with her fingertips. This was way too much. All the built-up pressure that had constantly bothered her was crashing down. _I need some air, _she told herself. She launched herself off the couch, made for the door and walked out into the light, breezy June air.

She collected herself and was about to find a nice, quiet, shady patch of grass on which she could rest, when she spotted a small black thing, flying around in the air, over near the field that the Weasleys used as a Quidditch pitch. She smiled, and decided to go and watch whoever it was. She had a certain redhead in mind, however…

When she reached the field's edge, she stood and squinted into the sun, eyes following the flyer. She smiled; she would recognize Ron anywhere.

Suddenly, several small things seemed to come rushing at him. He tried to bat them away and his broom went haywire. Hermione gasped as he was tossed this way and that, and then his broom went into a dive. Her eyes widened in horror as he hurtled down, straight towards her.

She screamed and tried to move, but her feet seemed to be glued to the ground. She could only watch, helplessly, as he flew nearer and nearer. She could just see him trying desperately to pull out of the dive, before she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable blow…to hear the _crunch_ as he crashed into her, to see stars flashing before she blacked out, to feel the incredible pain, and wonder how badly Ron was hurt…

None of these came. What she did hear was a terrible _thud_. What she did feel was an awful sensation in her gut. What she did see when she opened her eyes was Ron, some six feet away, crumpled on the ground. Hermione guessed that he had thrown himself off of his broom to avoid hitting her. He couldn't have fallen more than a few feet, but still…

Hermione instantly ran to him and knelt next to his unmoving body. She rolled him onto his back and grabbed his wrist, feeling anxiously for a pulse. She found one, faintly, much to her relief. She finally let out the air she'd been holding in since she'd opened her eyes.

Thinking quickly, Hermione leapt to her feet, aimed her wand in the air, and said, "_Expecto Patronum!" _The familiar silver otter shot out of the end of her wand, and turned to her for instruction.

"Go to Mrs. Weasley, and tell her that Ron fell off of his broom, and he's hurt." Hermione said this all in one breath. The otter made a happy, obliging noise and sped away towards the house. Hermione then turned back to Ron's crumpled form, pointed her wand at him, and wordlessly performed a spell. Ron floated into the air. Hermione levitated him carefully back down the slope, and was met by an anxious-looking Molly Weasley as she approached the back door.

"Here, dear, bring him in…thank heaven you were there for him…"

Hermione only half-smiled, not caring to mention that she was partially the cause of his injury.

Once Ron had been laid on the couch in the living room (the same couch, Hermione could not help but notice, that she herself had laid down on only ten minutes before), Mrs. Weasley bustled about looking for her household healing book, and Hermione sat by Ron, examining his injuries. He had suffered a bruise on his elbow, a large bump on his head and his ankle was twisted rather badly. Hermione knew that he could have been injured much more severely, had he fallen from a greater height.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley returned, carrying a thick book that was labeled _Household Healing Spells for Stay-at-home Mums_. She thumbed through it, found the appropriate spells, and performed them. Ron's injuries faded and he remained lying there, unconscious.

"Best to leave him there a while," Mrs. Weasley said quietly. "Thank you, dear," she added to Hermione.

Hermione smiled. "I'll stay here with him," she replied.

Mrs. Weasley returned her smile warmly, then departed. Hermione turned back to face Ron, and took in his pale features with sadness. She did not know quite how long she had been sitting there before the rhythmic crackling and warmth of the lazy fire lulled her slowly into a dreamless sleep, haunted by dark, indistinct figures and Dark Marks floating in a stormy sky...

"Hermione?"

Somebody's warm hand was tentatively resting on her knee, shaking it gently. She opened her eyes reluctantly to find Ron propped up by pillows, very much awake. He removed his hand quickly from her knee when her eyes fluttered open as she sat up and cursed herself for falling asleep. What if he had needed her?

"Hermione?" Ron repeated, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

She smiled at his concern. "I'm fine. I should be asking you that question."

Ron shook his head lightly. "I think I'm okay…what happened?"

Hermione started; she had completely forgotten about the reason they were there in the first place.

"Er…you-you fell off your broom," she said hastily. His eyes widened.

"I remember…I jumped off…broom was out of control…"

"You did it to avoid hitting me," Hermione said quietly.

Ron flushed. "Um…well, I couldn't just crash into you, right?" he stuttered.

Hermione nodded slowly, then, feeling the thick silence descending upon them, quickly got up and walked over to the window. It was, to her surprise, rain-washed, and she could make out a gray, stormy sky. How long had she been asleep?

"Erm…thanks," Ron said awkwardly, obviously unsure whether this was the right thing to say, or the right time to say it. Hermione turned to him; he was sitting up now.

"No," she replied, walking back towards him. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"Umm…you're welcome," he said shortly, and then, without making eye contact, stood and made for the stairs, blushing furiously. Hermione stared after him for some time before she heard a reluctant giggle. She straightened furiously and whipped her head around, scanning the room for the culprit. Finally, she noticed a shoe standing on its own near the base of the staircase. Though this may be considered normal, Hermione knew better.

She assumed the worst, and strode over to where the shoe (which, upon closer examination, was connected to a sock-clad ankle) still sat. She felt into thin air for a while before her hand connected with something hard, just a little higher than the top of her head. She heard an indignant "Ow!" and, smirking, reached to the left. She gathered the invisible, silky cloth in her hand and pulled hard.

There she stood, Invisibility Cloak in hand, looking at a red-faced Ginny Weasley, doubled up with laughter, and Harry Potter, who yanked off his glasses and rubbed a spot just above his eye. Hermione assumed that she'd shoved his glasses into his face.

Hermione looked upon the scene with a mixture of anger and reluctant amusement. Ginny finally managed to control herself, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, did you _have_ to do that?" Harry grumbled, putting his glasses back on and glaring moodily at her.

"You _were_ spying on me and Ron, you know," Hermione pointed out, becoming just as irritable as she recalled what the offending pair had been doing.

"It's Ron _and I," _Ginny put in, grinning. Hermione threw her the nastiest look she could muster.

Harry seemed to remember what they had obviously witnessed, and beamed, forgetting Hermione's terrible crime in the process.

"That was priceless," he said happily. The look Hermione gave him could have rendered the sun a ball of ice.

"Whoa, if looks could kill…" Ginny whispered. Hermione did, indeed, look as if she could kill.

"What do you think you were doing?" she exclaimed.

"Well, we just happened to overhear Ron attempting to wake you up, and we just decided to…look in on you," Ginny said simply. Hermione was seriously beginning to worry about the amount of influence Fred and George had on their sister.

"Fat chance." Hermione scowled; she didn't need to hear their mockery any more. She turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs, leaving Harry and Ginny to exchange knowing smirks.

* * *

Ron flung himself onto his violently orange bedspread, cheeks burning and head whirling. What was wrong with him, anyway? It wasn't like there was anything going on between him and Hermione—_no matter how much I wished there was,_ he thought—so why did he have to go and make a fool of himself whenever she was nearby?

His thoughts were torn from his head as the door banged open and Harry entered, looking frightened. When their eyes met, however, Ron could see the merriment in his friend's eyes. That merriment faded quickly as Harry took in Ron's sober expression, and he collapsed on his cot.

"What happened?" Ron asked quietly. Harry turned to him and was unable to keep from laughing.

"Ginny and I were—" He stopped abruptly; Ron would not take well to the truth. "We were, um…"

"They were spying on us!" Hermione's angry voice floated through the open door and Harry flinched. She appeared in the doorframe, looking very much as she sounded.

"Spying?" Ron repeated. "On us? When?"

Hermione sighed; Ron was obviously being a bit thick. "Just a few minutes ago! When you were—trying to wake me up!"

Ron's face dawned with realization, and he turned to Harry, who looked very small. Harry chuckled weakly.

"Mate—" Ron began. He never finished his sentence; Hermione lunged, and Harry leapt off the cot with amazing agility, turned on the spot and vanished.

"Damn him and his Apparating!" Hermione spat viciously. Ron turned to her with surprised eyes.

"Hermione…you swore…"

"Of course I did!" she cried. Ron backed off, frightened for her sanity and for his safety.

"Look…Hermione…it's not such a big deal…" he said quickly, and cringed, waiting for the blow…

Hermione sighed helplessly and sank onto the cot. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just…it's been so hard lately…"

Ron nodded. "I know."

Hermione heaved another heavy sigh. She didn't seem to be able to bring herself to look at him. The two of them seemed to reach a wordless connection, and that was all that Ron needed to understand.

* * *

Outside, the rain was pouring down in sheets. Ginny Weasley sat in the rocking chair on their porch, shielded from the rain by the atrocious pinstriped awning. She'd managed to duck away from Hermione's wrath and escape outside. Rain had always soothed her.

Suddenly, the air seemed to rip open with a CRACK, and Harry appeared in the garden. He yelled as the rain drenched him, turned and made for the porch. Ginny held open the screen door for him and he rushed in gratefully.

"What the bloody hell do you think you were doing?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Forgot it was raining" was Harry's simple answer. Ginny pulled up a chair next to hers for Harry to sit in. He did so, after siphoning as much of the rainwater as he could off of his clothing with his wand.

"So I take it you escaped from the wrath of Hermione?" Ginny joked. Harry chuckled and nodded, then fell silent. The grin slid from his face and he looked at her suddenly, eyes full of remorse.

"Ginny…" he began, then broke off. "Never mind. It's not important." He got up abruptly, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and made to walk towards the back door. Ginny, however, flew to him, and whipped him to face her, hands on his shoulders.

"Please don't do this," she said quietly, eyes pleading with him. "Don't keep it all inside. I don't have much time left with you. I want to make the most of it, and that means—that means that we have to be honest with each other. I won't let you leave me here with so many unanswered questions."

Harry couldn't bear to see her so sad. He gathered her tightly in his arms and held her. She buried her head into his shoulder as he stroked her hair and rocked her gently back and forth.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered. "I can't stand seeing you like this."

"Please promise you'll come back," she said, taking her head from his shoulder and looking into his eyes. There was a hitch in her voice as she spoke. "Please don't leave me."

Harry nodded, biting his lip to keep the tears down. He leaned his head in to share a sweet, sad kiss with her that he wished could last forever. They were drawn apart suddenly, however, by a little cough that sounded frighteningly close to Umbridge's _hem hem_'s. Mrs. Weasley stood there, looking shocked—she had obviously only been there a few seconds.

Harry quickly stepped back from Ginny as if he had committed a serious offence. He swallowed uncomfortably, straining to say something. "Uh…we…"

"Oh my," Mrs. Weasley said. To Harry's horror tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. "Oh my goodness."

"Mrs. Weasley…" Harry began again.

"Mum…" Ginny said, almost at the same time.

Mrs. Weasley looked between them with a mixed expression. "You two…are…"

"Mum, I'm sorry…" Ginny cut her off. "We should have told you, but…we didn't want you to…"

"Are you two…together?" Mrs. Weasley asked, as if she was afraid of the answer.

"No!" Harry said, a little too quickly. "Um…I mean…" He trailed off, his shoulders sagged, and he nodded.

"Oh, Ginny! My Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley suddenly exclaimed. She rushed forward, eyes glistening, and gathered them both into a bear hug. Harry and Ginny snatched a glimpse at each other over her shoulder. Their expressions read, "The-world-has-definitely-gone-mad".

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Ginny…Harry…" Suddenly she seemed to remember something, and her face darkened as if a shadow had passed over it.

"We've got to prepare for the…the party," she said finally. She seemed very tired, but straightened up and pretended to act normal. Harry and Ginny, however, could see through this.

"We're going to have to have the party inside, for obvious reasons," Mrs. Weasley said mildly, scanning the gray skies with distaste. "I'd like you two to help me get ready." With that, she turned and disappeared back through the door. Harry looked at Ginny questioningly.

"Mum doesn't want you to go either," Ginny said shortly. Harry snorted despite the circumstances.

"It's not funny," she said seriously. "I know Mum thinks of you as an eighth child…I don't want to sound harsh, but Mum has no idea how much you mean to me. No idea at all."

Harry couldn't listen anymore. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and they walked inside together, hand in hand.

* * *

Ron's hopes for starting over were, in his mind, now almost ruined. He only had one last chance: the party. Still, he couldn't help but think to himself: _So much for a clean slate…

* * *

_

**I did say that this chapter would have Harry/Ginny in it, too! I hope it wasn't too cheesy. I personally like writing darker stuff, so this chapter had a little bit of angst in it, and a whole lot of drama! **

**Troubled Tazzy-Yes, I am changing Voldemort's death, obviously. Good for you for noticing!**

**Kamiangel-Thanks! And especially thanks for saying it's classic, I do try to keep them in character and it's good to know that my work has paid off. So thanks once again!**

**Featherfinger-I hope this chapter helped you understand it better! Thanks for your awesome reviews!**


	7. The Sweetest Thing

**Hey there! I'm really sorry for not updating in forever…my life is completely hectic. I was just listening to a song and I thought it was perfect for the chapter, so…the italics in this chapter are lyrics!**

**Disclaimer: Would you look at that! I still don't own anything!

* * *

**

_My love she throws me like a rubber ball _

_Oh, the sweetest thing_

Ron stared at his ceiling, head swirling in thought. Suddenly a gentle tap on the door startled him and he jumped. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Um…it's Hermione…can I come in?" The voice that had haunted his dreams and befuddled him so many times floated through the door.

_Baby's got blue skies up ahead_

_But in this I'm a raincloud_

"Sure," Ron said, trying to look casual and cool. Hermione entered and stopped.

"Your mum wants help in setting up the party," she said quietly. He nodded and she made to leave, but he did not want her to.

"Wait, Hermione…" he said, causing her to turn to him expectantly. "Um…never mind. I'll tell you later."

_I'm losing you_

_Ain't love the sweetest thing?_

She looked confused, but all the same shut the door behind her, leaving an aura in the room that Ron wanted to bask in forever…

Ron shook himself and jumped up to follow her.

* * *

It did not take much time to set up for the party. Everybody worked in silence, magicking things this way and that. Mrs. Weasley refused Fred and George's help point-blank, leaving them to wander the house aimlessly, levitating objects at random.

Ron and Hermione were conjuring sufficient chairs for everybody in a grave silence. When Harry suddenly appeared in the doorway and sneezed, Ron gave a start and dropped his wand, causing the chair he'd been levitating to crash onto the floor with a crunching sound.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, exasperated. She quickly and soundlessly repaired the chair and placed it in the appropriate spot.

"Look what I found, guys!" Harry said, holding up a large, blue-and-silver electronic device by its handle.

"My boom box!" Hermione screamed indignantly. "Harry, give it back!"

Ron looked between his friends. "What's a boom box?"

"You'll see." Harry smirked, then pressed the "play" button. "I found some good songs on here…"

Music suddenly blared out of the speakers and Ron jumped in alarm for the second time in two minutes.

_I wanted to run but she made me crawl_

_Oh, the sweetest thing_

_Eternal fire, she turned me to straw_

_Oh, the sweetest thing_

_I know I got black eyes but they burn _

_So brightly for her_

_I guess it's a blind kind of love_

_Oh, the sweetest thing_

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked. She lunged, snatched the boom box and pressed the "stop" button. Music kept emitting from the object.

_I'm losing you_

_I'm losing you_

_Ain't love the sweetest thing?_

Ron was speechless. Whatever music this was, it sounded exactly like what he felt about Hermione…

"YOU STUCK THE BUTTON!" Hermione wailed, hysterical. The music kept playing happily.

_Blue eyed boy meets a brown eyed girl _

_Oh, the sweetest thing_

Hermione froze. Her chocolate eyes avoided Ron's, which were a clear blue, a fact that she wanted to avoid. She instead busied herself in thinking of the counter-curse to whatever Harry had put on the boom box.

_You can sew it up, but you still see the tear_

_Oh, the sweetest thing_

_Baby's got blue skies up ahead_

_But in this I'm a raincloud_

_Ours is a stormy kind of love_

Hermione flicked her wand desperately and jabbed the stop button. This time, the music stopped abruptly.

"Harry." Hermione gritted her teeth. "I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You."

"Hold up here," Ron said quickly. "Now, let me ask some questions. Harry, why did you take Hermione's…erm…Muggle thing…and Hermione, why did you bring that thing in the first place? What is it exactly?"

"Actually, I didn't take it," Harry began. "I merely borrowed it. You see, somebody left it carelessly out in the hall, and I thought…"

"Ginny." It wasn't a question.

"Don't finger Ginny in this," Ron said hastily.

"Who's fingering me?"

Ginny was leaning casually against the doorframe of the kitchen, observing the spectacle.

"Fingering is rude," she continued calmly.

Ron sighed. "It's metaphorical, dear sister."

"Me-tah-phor-ic-al," Ginny repeated, smirking. "Big word for you."

Ron chose to ignore this comment, and instead continued to question. "Hermione, what is that thing?"

"That is my portable boom box," Hermione explained, obviously trying to keep cool. "It's a Muggle device that plays CD's, which are disks that have music on them. When you put a CD into that thing, it plays the music on that CD. I'd explain how it does that, but it's very complicated…"

"Sounds like it," Ron said frankly. "Why did you bring it here?"

"I like having my music, and Mum and Dad wouldn't get me an Ipod…don't ask what that is," she added, seeing Ron's curious expression.

"Harry, why did you play that song for us?" Ron continued. Upon being drawn back to the subject at hand, Hermione fired up again and started clenching her fists.

"G—er—somebody let me listen to that song, and I thought you might enjoy it," Harry said brightly. Ron remembered what the song had been about, and realized Harry's purpose in playing it, all at once.

"You know…" Hermione said, sobering. "Normally I'd be cursing you into oblivion, Harry, but…given the circumstances I think that I can let it go."

Everybody was silent. Harry seemed sad at having his moment of fun quashed at the memory of their quest. Harry turned to Ginny—only to find himself staring at an empty spot where she had stood moments before.

* * *

By the time the sun was staining the sky with fire and long shadows trailed after evening joggers down in Ottery St. Catchpole, most of the party guests had arrived. Harry watched them trail in, one after one: Remus Lupin and Tonks, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Mad-Eye Moody…all the people who had stood by him.

The living room was not very crowded, and Harry knew that only the most important people were coming. He suddenly noticed Charlie, pacing in front of the window, apparently waiting for something. Another crack ripped the air outside and he straightened. Harry got a glimpse of a tall girl with blonde hair and blue-grey eyes that he didn't know standing in the door uncertainly before Charlie grabbed her in his arms and twirled her around.

"Why, Charlie! A friend of yours?" Molly Weasley exclaimed, bustling over.

"Uh, Mum…" Charlie began, and put an arm around the girl. "This is Helaena McKinnet, she's my…my girlfriend."

"Oh." Mrs. Weasley looked happy. "Welcome, Helaena."

The girl smiled. "Thank you. Charlie has told me a lot about all of you. I'm happy to be here."

Harry left and weaved through the chairs that were crammed around the magically lengthened table. He approached Ron and Hermione, who were chatting with Luna and Neville.

"Harry!" Neville said happily. They shook hands.

"Hello, Harry," Luna said dreamily. She was staring around her, misty eyes taking in everything.

"Hey, Luna," Harry replied. "How are you both?"

"We're fine," Neville answered, nudging Luna so she could concentrate on the conversation.

"I was just asking Neville and Luna when the marriage is," Hermione said coyly. Luna and Neville both flushed at this.

"Marriage?" Harry asked confusedly. "You two are getting married? Don't you think you're a little young—"

"You sound like my grandmother," Neville sighed. "We're not getting married anytime soon! We only got together about a week ago—" he stopped and reddened even more.

"Oh, well, that's all right then!" Harry said happily. Neville sighed again.

"I'm glad he finally told me," Luna said, displaying her knack of speaking her mind blatantly. "What with the war and all…" She stopped and her eyes filled with tears. Hermione pulled her friend into a hug. The three boys waited, feeling uncomfortable, until they broke apart. Luna wiped her eyes.

"It's going to be okay," Hermione said softly. "Don't worry."

"I'm sorry," Luna whispered. They had never seen her like this before.

"Don't be." Neville put an arm around her. She smiled at them, a watery yet genuine smile, then Neville led her away towards the fire. Hermione looked sad as she watched them go.

"They don't want us to be alone in this." Hermione hugged herself. "I don't blame them."

"Harry, Ron, Hermione," Remus said from behind them. All three teenagers faced him.

"Hullo, Remus," Harry said dully. For some reason he felt completely emotionless now.

"Hello, yourself." Remus smiled at him. "Don't sound so excited to see me."

"He's having a bit of a rough time," Hermione said in a stage whisper.

"I'll talk to him," Remus responded in the same tone. "Come on, Harry," he added, louder.

"Alright," Harry agreed in a monotonous voice. Remus led Harry away, leaving Ron and Hermione to stand there uncomfortably. They finally were brought into conversation with Charlie and Helaena, his girlfriend. When the two had left, Ron made up his mind.

"Um, Hermione?" Ron asked nervously. "Can I talk to you? Alone?"

Hermione looked slightly surprised. "Sure,"

Ron was leading her on a beeline towards the back porch when Charlie approached them, laughing heartily with a blonde girl that neither Ron nor Hermione knew.

"Ron, I want you to meet Helaena, she's my girlfriend," Charlie said happily. The girl called Helaena smiled at them.

"Errr, hello," Ron said, wiggling a few fingers in greeting.

"Hi, Helaena," Hermione said cheerfully. Ron, however, having known her for seven years, could see through the mask of happiness on her face. The problem was that he couldn't read what was underneath. Girls were so hard to understand sometimes.

"Hi! You must be Hermione! Charlie tells me all about you," Helaena said. "You and Ron."

Hermione turned a deep shade of red. Her cheeks seemed to be on fire. Looking over, she found Ron wearing a very similar expression.

Helaena grinned. "Charlie's told me about you two. Don't worry, I won't let it get out."

"Charlie," Ron said dangerously. Charlie paled.

"Ummm, Helaena, honey…I don't think Hermione and Ron want to discuss that any further, okay?" he said hastily. Helaena frowned at him.

"I hope you haven't been lying to me, Charlie-kins," she simpered. Even though Ron and Hermione barely knew her, they could tell that she was faking it, and laughed at the look on Charlie's face.

"Please don't call me that," he said, annoyed. She snickered.

"Sorry, sorry…"

Ron and Hermione snuck away. Helaena seemed to have a good sense of humor. They could see why Charlie liked her.

"I wonder if they met because of Charlie's dragon-keeping?" Hermione mused out loud.

Ron was about to respond when Mrs. Weasley emerged from the kitchen and called, "Dinner's ready!"

Ron sighed. For the second time that day he'd missed an opportunity to tell Hermione everything…

* * *

Meanwhile, Remus and Harry were seated, facing each other, in armchairs by the blazing fire. Remus sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead.

"I can't believe you're going to do this," Remus said finally. Harry tensed; he hadn't expected Remus to react this way.

"Look, Remus, I'm going, Ron and Hermione are coming with me, and there's nothing you can do about it. I need to do this on my own."

Remus nodded. "I know. It's just like something your father would do. You have no idea how much you're like him."

"Where have I heard that before," Harry said dully. Remus chuckled.

"Not just in looks. Your father would be rushing off into battle, too. And you both seem to have a weak spot for—" Remus winked and tilted his head over to where Ginny was standing, talking with Tonks, "—fiery redheads."

Harry reddened but did not look away. Remus' expression turned serious again.

"James would have died for Lily," he said sadly. "He almost did, once."

Harry straightened. "He did? When?"

"She was trying to learn to fly…lost control of the broom. She would have fallen from seventy feet up if James hadn't caught her, five feet before she hit the ground. He nearly fell off his own broom diving to get her, and he also had a broken arm from the previous Quidditch game…it was still tender, and it broke again when he did that. You can understand how much of an impact this had on Lily, of course. This was in seventh year, so in a way it helped them get together in the first place…"

"I would do that for Ginny," Harry said unconsciously. When Remus raised a knowing eyebrow, Harry flushed and cleared his throat.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" he asked. Remus' face darkened.

"Harry, I want to say something important…so I don't want you to interrupt."

Harry nodded slowly. Remus continued. "I know that Molly feels so protective of you. You're like a son to her. Understandably she doesn't want you doing this…nor Ron and Hermione. I've spoken with her and Arthur…they both feel that you are too young. Harry, if anything happened to either of you…

"But she's letting you go. I don't think you know how hard it's going to be for her to let you do this. It's hard for me, too…for all of us. But I want you to know that we're always here for you."

Harry blinked. He was looking at the last precious reminder of his parents…and he was leaving him behind.

"I have no idea, either," Remus continued quietly. "When I spoke to Ginny she didn't seem like she was there. She seemed to be off in another world…her eyes have a lost look in them. She's going with you in spirit, Harry, as are we all. Remember that. Even if we can't protect you physically, we can remind you that we're always there for you."

Harry blinked again, ignoring the prickling tears that were flirting with the corners of his eyes, trying to leak out. He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. Just then he heard Mrs. Weasley's voice, as if from far away, calling them for dinner. Harry got up abruptly, thanked Remus hastily, and departed.

* * *

Ron looked about him at the people crammed around the dinner table; he saw nothing but familiar faces (save for Helaena). Luna, Neville, Remus, Tonks, Alastor Moody, and of course the Weasley clan. He felt a tremendous weight as he thought about leaving them.

Then he saw Harry. His best mate. The Boy Who Lived. Ron had had a few brief moments over the course of their friendship in which he had longed to be in Harry's place. He'd wanted to be the hero, to be the stuff of legend. Now he knew that being Harry Potter would definitely not be a perfect life. In fact, Ron had never felt sorrier for Harry. He was sitting next to Ginny. They seemed to be avoiding one another, but Ron could see that, under the table, their hands were clasped tightly. Neither was eating anything. Ron suddenly wished that he'd spent more time with his sister, and he knew it was too late.

Lastly, his eyes found Hermione, sitting across from him, twirling her food with her fork sadly, slightly bushy hair falling over her face. His Hermione. What it was about her that made him so befuddled, he didn't know. All he knew was that he was now most definitely head over heels in love.

She looked up suddenly and her eyes met his in a piercing gaze. Ron realized that he had been staring at her and tried to look away, but the sadness in her glistening eyes melted his heart. He attempted a smile, but couldn't manage it, so he ended up looking more depressed. She blinked and turned her head away, bending back down over her untouched food. Ron's shoulders sagged. How pathetic was he?

* * *

Hermione kept her head bent over her plate, playing with the roast chicken and stuffing aimlessly. She had a sudden feeling that she was being watched. She looked up—right at Ron's clear eyes, staring back at her. He literally looked as if he could crumple to the floor in a puddle of sadness. Her heart went out to him, begging him, somehow willing him to talk with her, to make it all right. She sighed; she knew it wouldn't be all right. Even when it was all over, things would never be all right.

She was aware that the room was silent, save for the occasional clanking of cutlery on plate. Everybody had full plates; even Charlie wasn't eating. Mrs. Weasley sighed, and set down her knife and fork.

"I don't think any of us feels like eating tonight," she said quietly. Hermione sighed, and turned to her.

"I'm sorry, Molly," she said slowly; recently Mrs. Weasley had asked Harry and Hermione to call her by her first name. "It is delicious, but…I'm not really that hungry, somehow…"

Everybody nodded. Mrs. Weasley managed a weak smile.

"If you can't eat, don't," she said encouragingly. "I don't mind…"

The stubbornly polite group relented at this, and stood up to help clear the table. When Ron and Hermione had cleared away their places, Ron went around the table and cautiously looked her in the eye.

"Hermione…can we talk now?"

She smiled, and nodded. Ron was going to take her hand to lead her away, but thought better of it and instead took her by the elbow gently. They were walking through the living room towards the porch when they heard the front door open slowly. Ron froze and felt his whole body shake with repressed anger as he heard a voice from the door that he'd never wanted to hear again.

"Herm-own-ninny?"

* * *

**Don't kill me! It will help the plotline along in the next chapter, I promise…and the song in this chapter was _The Sweetest Thing _by U2.**

**This chapter was really hard to write, I redid it about 5 times so I hope you are happy with it! I also hope it didn't sound too cheesy or cliché—if you thought that it did, let me know in a gentle manner!**

**Kamiangel-Wow…thank you for your very insightful review! Your kind comments sound even better when they're written like that.**

**Featherfinger-What has? I hope this chapter satisfied your need for RHr, and thanks for reviewing!**


	8. When We Dance

**Why, hello. I hope you're enjoying my story so far! I've got all the plotlines for the chapters planned out now (yeah, I know, weird…but I have lots of thinking time before I go to sleep…it takes me a while to get to sleep…anywho…) so all I need to do is make them come to life on paper—er—Internet? It might take a while, though…I've got this huge battle scene and its aftermath permanently stamped on the inside of my brain and it won't seem to go away. I'm open to any ideas you may have for this story, though I do have a good idea of how I want it to end, I'm flexible. I might even name another character after you…who knows…also, I am aware that I didn't mention Fleur in the last chapter, that was stupid of me…I'm sorry. Just pretend that she was there…she'll make an appearance this chapter…**

**Diclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all content, characters and properties (save for Helaena, and Featherfinger owns her, not I).

* * *

**

"V-Viktor?" Hermione croaked, spinning quickly to face the Bulgarian standing in the doorway.

"I am sorry if I vas a little late, Herm-own-ninny," Viktor said empathetically, before crossing the room and hugging her tightly. Hermione did not, as Ron had desperately hoped, push him away; she did quite the opposite, in fact, and hugged him back.

Ron felt as if somebody had cranked up the heat in the room to full blast. His tightly clenched fists were trembling and white with anger.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?" Ron bellowed, causing Viktor and Hermione to break apart and look round at him, surprised. Viktor did not seem to have noticed Ron at all up till that point.

"Vat is vrong?" Viktor asked confusedly. Hermione shot Ron a death glare, but he continued.

"I'll tell you what's wrong!" he spat, aware of the curious crowd that had gathered in the door to the living room. "You're—you're—"

"Let me guess," Hermione said viciously. "_Fraternizing with the enemy?"_ She raised her wand and the door slammed, shutting all the people out. She then placed a Silencing Charm on it.

"Exactly!" One part of him was screaming to stop, and another was urging him on…

"Enemy?" Viktor still looked puzzled. "Vat? Vare is this enemy?"

"Who gave you rights to come here?" Ron yelled.

Viktor looked astounded. "Vhy, I vanted to see my Hermione off—"

Hermione flushed, looking uncomfortable. "Please, Viktor, don't call—"

"YOUR Hermione!" Ron was completely freaking out now. "What makes her YOUR Hermione?"

Viktor had just begun to look very angry. Now, all traces of anger vanished and were replaced with a look of defeat.

"I see," he said quietly, looking from Ron to Hermione. "Then there—there is something between you and Ron, Herm-own-ninny?"

"NO!" Hermione cried. "No, Viktor, there's nothing going on! NOTHING!" Hermione's hands flew to cover her red face, splotched with new tears, and she rushed out to the porch, sobbing.

"Vat vas that all about?" Viktor asked Ron politely. Ron, though he secretly was wondering the same thing, fired up again.

"You know what that's all about!" he said loudly.

Viktor shook his head honestly. "I'm afraid I do not…Herm-own-ninny has told me a lot about you—this is vhy I came to believe that there was something more between you…"

Ron softened. Hermione talked about him?

"She also sent me a picture—" Viktor drew a photo out from his pocket and handed it to Ron. He looked at it, to see Hermione, Harry and himself sitting by the lake, laughing and waving. He remembered Colin taking that photo, on the first day of seventh year.

"You know, vhen I first came to your Hogvarts I vas convinced that Herm-own-ninny vas vith your friend, Harry," Viktor commented. Ron looked up in surprise.

"But she convinced me othervise. She told me that there was nothing going on betveen them. But I vas not so sure about you, Ron," Viktor continued, looking at him suddenly. "In this photo it is clear from the way you look at Herm-own-ninny that you have feelings for her that are more than friendship…" Viktor trailed off.

"I DO NOT!" Ron exclaimed—then took a second look at the photo. Indeed, he was stealing contented glances at her every so often…

"I haff been meaning to ask you about this," Viktor said in a deadly whisper. "Vat is there between you and Herm-own-ninny—and vat do you vant there to be?"

Ron's shoulders sagged helplessly. "There's nothing between me and Hermione except friendship—and I'm not even sure of that anymore," he added, looking to where Hermione had disappeared and carefully avoiding the second part of the question.

"Vell, I believe you…but vat about my other question?" Viktor pressed.

"I don't like her like that!" Ron stated. Viktor responded with a disbelieving look.

"I do not like people who lie," Viktor said slowly. "I know how you feel about Herm-own-ninny. And—and I now fear that she—feels the same."

Ron gaped at him. "N-No. You're wrong. Hermione doesn't…I mean, there's no way she could ever—love me…"

Viktor half-laughed. "So you admit your feelings, then?"

Ron seemed to be doing a very good impression of a fish. "No, I mean, yes—I mean—"

"I must talk with Herm-own-ninny now. Alone." Viktor left abruptly, leaving Ron with only the photograph that he was still gripping. Hermione had given this to—to that Bulgarian git. Without a second thought he tore it into sixteenths and tossed the pieces unmercifully into the fire.

* * *

"Herm-own-ninny?"

Hermione whipped her head out from where it rested in her hands and swiped at her bloodshot eyes in an attempt to dry her tears. She rose quickly from her lawn chair as Viktor approached her carefully.

"I'm sorry, Viktor," she said brokenly, without meeting his gaze. Instead, she turned her glistening eyes towards the gray sky through the thick sheets of rain. Viktor gently cupped her chin and turned it so her eyes met his.

"Ve need to talk," he said seriously.

"Al-All right," she stuttered, uncertain of what else to say. Viktor let her towards the swinging bench that the Weasleys had recently acquired. It was adorned with a fluffy, patchy, obviously homemade cushion. He sat her down, took the spot beside her, and leaned forward, hands clasped and elbows on knees.

"I haff spoken with your—friend Ron," Viktor said quietly. Hermione could only nod.

"Vat do you feel about him, Herm-own-ninny?" Viktor said quickly. As his head turned rapidly to catch her gaze, thunder rumbled across the sky.

"F-Feel?" Hermione repeated carefully. "Honestly, Viktor, I don't really _feel _anything towards him now—"

"You are lying to me, Herm-own-ninny," Viktor whispered.

Hermione sighed, relenting. "I'm sorry…I do feel things towards him, loads of things."

Viktor looked crushed. "I see…and…_love _is amongst these…?"

"No! No, no, no, Viktor, that's not what I meant at all," Hermione cried, while trying to hide the color seeping into her cheeks. "I only meant that—well, sometimes he just makes me so mad…and then other times he's a great friend…I don't know…"

"I think that a little part of you does know vat you feel," Viktor said. "Please, Herm-own-ninny…I need to know."

"Well…he just…sometimes he can be a complete git…but a part of me, a little part of me, can't get mad at him, and that's partially what gets me so frustrated…I don't know what it is about him that does that, but…"

"Herm-own-ninny," Viktor said quietly, staring her down. "Vat do you feel about—about me?"

Hermione lost all hope of avoiding the situation. "Oh, Viktor…back then I was so immature…you were the first person to treat me like a lady…I felt loved when I was with you. But now—Ro—er, other boys still don't act like that towards me, like I was a kind of delicate, rare flower…I loved being treated like that. But…oh, Viktor, I'm so sorry, but…I can't be with you. It's so hard to explain…"

"It is Ron," Viktor breathed sadly, looking away. "Do not deny it again, Herm-own-ninny."

Hermione's heart sank; she had hoped he wouldn't figure anything out. "I can't lie to you anymore, Viktor," she whispered. "I can't deny it…I'm so, so sorry. Even if—even if it will never happen…"

"I understand," Viktor said, standing. "I understand completely. Goodbye, Herm-own-ninny." He hugged her loosely, then turned on the spot and vanished, leaving her to stand there and allow a single tear to trickle down her cheek.

* * *

After he'd watched the photograph burn into ashes, Ron had considered listening in on Hermione and Krum's conversation, but had thought better of it when he recalled the awful image of Hermione bursting into tears and rushing away. How many times had he caused tears to leak out of those beautiful eyes? How many times had he sprung into his overprotective state for her?

Suddenly a loud CRACK that reverberated out on the porch startled him. Krum was gone. Ron nervously started towards the porch, ready with a thousand apologies, none of which seemed anywhere close to what he wanted to say.

He found her sitting on the swinging bench. He had only to take two steps towards her when the board under his foot creaked and she immediately looked up. The pain and depression in her eyes was too much for Ron to bear. He began to back away, but Hermione spoke first:

"Please talk to me."

Her voice was so desperate that he had to oblige. He cautiously moved towards the bench and sat next to her.

"Look, Hermione—" he started to say, and then trailed off. He opened his mouth again and closed it.

"I—Viktor said you spoke with him." There was a hitch in her voice.

"Yes."

"What did you talk about?"

Ron paused. Here was yet another chance to tell her…

"Um, well…he asked me…about…listen, Hermione, I don't think this is the right time, I mean, I really want to talk to you about some things."

She nodded, eyes overcast and dull, matching the horizon.

"Please look at me," he said quietly. She turned her eyes to him slowly.

"Well…um…I don't know exactly how to say this but…I am really, really sorry…I mean, it's just that…when _he _showed up again…amongst everything else I just couldn't handle it. I was completely out of line, and I understand if you never want to speak to me again, or anything…"—he cleared his throat—"And I also understand if you and Krum are…together…"

He couldn't quite bring himself to look at her until she spoke. When she did, there was renewed sadness in her voice.

"Oh, Ron…I…how could I ever do that to you? You're…I mean…no matter how much of a git you are sometimes, I could never, ever do something like that…"

Ron's eyes filled with depression. "But Krum…he kissed you, didn't he?"

The edges of Hermione's mouth twitched upwards in a shadow of a smile. "No, Ron, he didn't. Even if he had tried, I wouldn't have let him. I explained…I talked with him about our relationship…we're just friends, okay? Just friends."

Ron visibly deflated with relief. "But…why?"

Hermione looked down. "I…I can't really say…but he put two and two together…"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said again, voice cracking a little. "I'm too protective of you…I've been horrible to you…if you want me to leave now, I will."

Hermione shook her head, gulping. "No, Ron," she said, voice breaking completely. "Please. I forgive you, but I need…I need support right now…support that Viktor can't give me."

Ron nodded, feeling tears well up in his own eyes, and pulled her close to him, rocking her gently. Both tried to ignore the peculiar feeling of fireworks exploding beneath their skin.

"I'm scared, Ron," Hermione whispered.

"Me, too," Ron agreed. "But if we stick together, it'll be okay. And…don't forget, I'm always—_always—_here for you, whether you like it or not. I'm going to keep you safe."

* * *

"Oh, _look!_" Ginny cried excitedly. Harry grinned at her. Ginny sighed happily.

"Come on, just kiss her, you dolt," Fred muttered.

"Really, give them some privacy," Mrs. Weasley said angrily, wiping her tears with a lacy handkerchief and attempting to steer away Harry, Ginny, Fred, George, Luna and Neville, all of whom were crowded around the kitchen window, observing the little scene outside.

"Insensitive prat," Ginny muttered, punching Fred's shoulder, before grabbing Harry and Luna's upper arms. "Come on, Mum's right, leave them alone. In any case, Ron's definitely not going to make another move…he's already gone over his limit for tonight…"

Ten minutes later, Ron and Hermione came back into the kitchen, Hermione slightly puffy-eyed. Mrs. Weasley looked away from her conversation with Helaena and smiled.

"There you two are. I was wondering what was taking you so long." Mrs. Weasley had a motherly look on her face as she eyed the teenagers.

"Mums," Ron muttered, feeling the other guests throwing them knowing looks.

"Well, since it's getting rather late, I think we should enjoy ourselves with the time…the time we have left," Mrs. Weasley finished her sentence firmly. "How about some music?"

"Oh, not that awful Celestina Warbeck again," George complained loudly. Mrs. Weasley gave him a death glare.

"No, I'm not going to put Celestina on," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Harry has given me this lovely Muggle item…he even selected some songs…" Mrs. Weasley held up Hermione's boom box. Hermione did not even bother to tell Mrs. Weasley anything, and instead made a mental note to get revenge.

"Well, I will 'elp clear ze dance floor," Fleur said, trying to sound cheerful. Hermione smiled at how hard Fleur was trying; she'd warmed up to the French girl, as had the rest of the family.

When the chairs were gathered to one side and the rug was slumped in a roll against the wall, Mrs. Weasley announced, "Well, I think somebody should open the dancing…how about…Harry? Ginny?"

Harry shook his head hastily; he did not want to be the center of attention while in close proximity to Ginny.

"Oh, well…Neville and Luna, what about you?"

"S-Sure," Neville said, taking Luna's hand and leading her towards the cleared space. Mrs. Weasley looked uncertainly at the boom box, and Harry jumped up to help her. Arthur Weasley also rushed over, interested to look at a new Muggle device.

"Now, anybody else can join in whenever they feel like it…all right, Harry, start it up!"

Harry pressed a button and some lively music began playing. Everybody save for Harry, Hermione and Helaena stared at it, astounded. Neville and Luna did the same, before jumping to their senses and dancing. After about a minute Tonks managed to drag Remus onto the dance floor. Harry then felt it was safe—after all, it was very bopsy music—and turned to Ginny, nervous for some reason.

"Uh, Ginny…d'you want to dance?" he asked.

Ginny smiled. "Sure."

Ron and Hermione watched as Charlie and Helaena joined in, then Bill and Fleur, the latter of whom was dancing rather awkwardly due to her large belly, and finally Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mad-eye Moody merely looked on with an amused eye, the other one swiveling in its socket. Fred and George joined too, pretending to dance in such a funny way that all the other couples were laughing.

Suddenly, the music changed to a slow, enchanting piece, and Fred and George darted off. Fleur sat down, quite red-faced. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left too, as if to watch the others.

Harry felt very uncomfortable; he could feel Charlie watching him over Helaena's shoulder. But when he glanced over at Mrs. Weasley, she smiled at him reassuringly. Ginny slid her arms around his neck and leaned into his shoulder. Harry put his arms around her waist and they swayed in time to the relaxing music.

Ron watched Harry and his sister slow dancing and felt a rush of jealousy. Ginny seemed to fit next to Harry; they looked so right together.

Hermione shifted and coughed uncomfortably and Ron's stomach plunged—he wanted so desperately to ask her to dance, but what if she said no?

"Go on, Ronniekins." Fred and George were suddenly by his side, whispering in his ear.

"You know you want to."

"What's stopping you?"

"She wants you—"

"Bloody hell, go away!" Ron exclaimed at them. They backed away, mocking hurt. Ron turned his back on them to find Hermione looking amused.

"Um, Hermione?" Ron stuttered, making up his mind on the spot and instantly regretting it.

She turned to face him, all traces of amusement gone from her features, to be replaced with a look of questioning and—was it possible?—hope…

"Would…would you like to d-dance? With—with me?" There, he had said it.

She smiled. "Of course."

Ron let out the breath that he'd been holding in and nervously led her to the dance floor. When they got there, Ron just look uncomfortable for a moment before Hermione placed her hands tentatively on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. Then he carefully slipped an arm around her waist and drew him to her. She melted in his embrace and rested her head on his chest. They seemed to soak up each other's pain, relaxing them and soothing them. After a while Hermione leaned up and whispered in his ear, "Thank you."

Ron smiled at her. They danced for another hour like that, completely ignoring Ginny and Harry's smirking.

They were the last ones to leave the dance floor. When Bill finally decided he'd had enough, he got up and stood beside Harry and Ginny, who were still slow dancing.

"Paws off my sister, Harry, mate," he'd growled. Harry had jumped and somehow managed to melt away to a corner of the room. Ginny glared at Bill, before hurrying after Harry. Ron and Hermione, suddenly realizing that they were now the center of attention, sprang apart and rushed off the dance floor, avoiding contact and blushing furiously, much to the amusement of everybody else.

"Thank you all for coming," Fleur said graciously. "I am very glad I 'ad a chance to-to—" she broke off and a tear rolled down her perfect cheek. Bill quickly enveloped his wife in a hug while she collected herself. When she broke away from him, she wiped her tears and smiled in a watery way.

"Eet 'as been a wonderful evening," she said. "I theenk that this 'as been profitable for all of us."

"Yes," Remus agreed. "It was great to see everybody so happy."

"But now—now it is time for bed," Mrs. Weasley choked. "And…some of you may wish to say your…your goodbyes now…it's an early start tomorrow morning."

Later, when Ron and Harry had finally crashed onto their beds in Ron's room, Ron lay awake, staring at the ceiling, head whirling in thought. Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Ginny crept in. Harry sat up, and relaxed visibly in the moonlight. Ron jumped out of bed as Ginny padded into the room.

"What d'you think you're—" Ron began, then cut off as he saw his sister's glistening eyes.

"Please, Ron," she said brokenly. "I need to be with Harry, I need to…"

"I promise you nothing will happen, Ron, mate," Harry said quietly from behind him. "She—I'll miss her so much, Ron, you don't know—"

"All right, I'm sorry…I'll find somewhere else to sleep." Ron tried to smile. He picked up his pillow, yanked off his comforters, and dragged them outside. Harry called, "Thanks, mate" after him quietly before he closed the door behind him.

* * *

Ron crept into the hall. Where could he sleep? Then it hit him—Ginny had left her bed…he could sleep there. The trick was to get in there without waking Hermione.

He opened the door painfully slowly. Looking inside, he could see the silhouette of Hermione, her side lightly rising and falling to the rhythm of sleep. So far, so good. He slipped inside and skirted towards Ginny's bed. Just as he was climbing in, his foot found a loose floorboard, making an ominous creaking sound. Hermione shifted and Ron saw her eyes open.

"Ginny? Is that you?" she asked sleepily.

"No, Hermione, it's Ron," Ron called softly. She said up groggily and stared at him.

"Ron? What are you doing here?"

"Ginny needed to be with Harry, so…I needed a place to sleep…I'm sorry that I woke you."

She smiled weakly. "It's okay. I know…I'm actually glad you came. I—You know how I said earlier that I just needed support? There's something about…well, something that you do comforts me, you know? I feel safe when I'm around you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said, very quietly.

"I'd talk with you more, but we probably should get to sleep." Hermione laid her head back on her pillow.

"I know. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Ron."

Silence…

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I'm here for you. Always."

"Thanks."

* * *

**I need sleep, too…it's nine-thirty, and I have two stinky science projects to do, a math test, and a social assignment. It's very stressful, and to top things off I got a migraine yesterday. So, I apologize if this chapter had some holes in it, I really did want to finish it off so that I could start planning the next one. My brain just works that way.**

**Featherfinger-Yes, you were in it! I am going to expand your character in the last chapter or so…look for her!**

**Sarah-Ah, another devoted reader! You are my only faithful anonymous reviewer! I'm very grateful to you.**

**Freakyfinger-Hope this chapter cleared it up…**

**Kamiangel-Thanks! Your comments and support keep me going! Ron's not through on the stretch rack…**


	9. A Thousand Goodbyes

**I'd like to comment on something here. Feel free to skip this…**

**On a different note, I've received a review from a person named Jarno. This person made some comments that really lowered my self-esteem. I know this person was probably just trying to help and state their opinion, but it still made me feel bad. If you just don't like my story, you don't have to read it, and most certainly do not have to review. If you review and leave nothing but degrading comments, in a way that's much worse than not getting any reviews. **

**I guess what I'm trying to say here is this: I have mentioned my hatred for flaming, but somehow getting a review like the one stated above makes me feel worse. Flames I can toss away without a second thought; these really hit a writer where it hurts. I'm not going to stop writing because of this, as I've gotten some great feedback so far. (Thank you to all my wonderful supporters!) Still, as many people throughout time have advised: "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything". Scream into your pillow or something instead.**

**The person also said that the characters are very OoC. I know that this is an AU story, but I do try to stay true to the books. I was under the impression that I was doing an okay job of it up until now. For example, chapter 5 was fairly easy to write because I can see Ginny doing those things. She talked to Harry in much the same way at the end of HBP, so I was mainly bringing those moments away from that.**

**I am not the judge of my own writing, though. So now I ask this: what do other people think of my characters? Are they really that badly OoC? Or is it just the wild rants of one reader? Let me know. I'm trying to keep this canon, and all is not milk and cookies with Ron and Hermione…**

**To round this off with a lighter comment, I am really enjoying writing this story, and I hope you get the same pleasure in reading it. The chapter will begin right after where chapter 8 left off.

* * *

**

_There he was. Just up the aisle. Hermione could see him beaming, messy red hair falling into his face. All the other guests were blurred and indistinct; the only people that mattered were her and Ron. She glided down the aisle, taking no notice of anything around her. The soft, floaty white dress billowed around her as she walked faster and faster, finally breaking into a run. She flung herself into his arms, and he picked her up and spun her around, laughing. He set her down and slid the ring onto her finger as she looked into his eyes._

_Suddenly a shadow passed over them. Hermione looked round to see all the other guests simply vanish. Hermione tried to scream, but no sound came out. Ron held her tightly as the shadows came nearer. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and when she opened them, everything was gone. They were standing in a graveyard filled with dry leaves. Hermione clung to Ron, but could feel herself getting yanked off by a cold, clammy hand. She shrieked as she watched hooded figures surround a frightened Ron. She screamed and screamed, tears pouring down her face, as they aimed their wands at him._

_A blast of green light, and Ron was lying on the ground in a crumpled, unmoving heap. The cloaked figures laughed coldly and released her. She fell to her knees next to his lifeless body, feeling her heart shatter and her soul break into a million pieces._

"_No!" she managed to choke out through her tears. "No, Ron, please wake up! NO!"_

"Hermione!"

Somebody was shaking her violently. Hermione's eyes fluttered open. It was only a dream. Only a dream. And there, leaning over her, looking worried, was Ron.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione sobbed, and threw her arms around his neck. Ron seemed surprised, but held her gently while she cried.

"Shh…it's okay, I'm here…what's the matter?"

Hermione gulped and drew away so she could look him in the eye.

"Ron…it was awful…"

"What was?" Ron asked, concern filling his eyes. "You were screaming for me…"

"Yes." Hermione took a shuddering breath. "It was—I don't know what was happening, we all seemed so happy, and then…shadows came…we were in this graveyard…and—I think there were Death Eaters there, Ron, and it was only the two of us…they…they killed you, I had to watch…oh, Ron, it was the worst nightmare…"

Ron looked sad. "I'm here. Don't worry. I'm never leaving you."

She sniffled and smiled at him. "I feel better already…but oh, it was so terrible…"

"I know," Ron said, bringing her back into a hug.

"Y-You do?" Hermione was surprised.

"Yeah." Ron chuckled weakly. "I have them almost every night now…I've kind of gotten used to them…now I know how Harry feels, though."

"What are they like?" Her question was a shadow of a whisper.

Ron took a breath. "They're always the same. Malfoy…he comes to your house, breaks the gate…then you come out and—and—you put up a fight. But…there are more Death Eaters…Ginny and Harry are there too, all my family…tied up…tied to their own gravestones…" Ron stopped and looked at her.

Her face crumpled. "Ron…I never knew."

He smiled faintly. "I didn't want to tell you about them because…well…"

"It's all right," she said quietly. "I understand. But—Ron, I'm so scared…do you think you could…stay here with me? I mean…"

Ron reddened, but nodded. "I can if you want me to."

Hermione shifted over and Ron climbed uncomfortably under the covers. She scooted close to him, taking in his warmth. Ron suddenly felt a surge of fright as he thought about everything that had happened, and shrunk into her, too. They huddled there together for some time before their eyelids finally drooped closed.

* * *

"What the bloody hell? Them, too?" A voice whispered through a crack in the door.

"Shut up, Fred! Don't want to break up their little lovefest…"

"All right, keep your knickers on…why couldn't Harry have brought one of those Muggle things…a carmara?"

The sound of the twin's snickers seemed to be magnified by ten times in the early morning rays of the sun. Ron groaned and opened his eyes resentfully. What were they on about? He turned over and found his face inches from Hermione's, her eyes still closed. He yelped and jumped back, causing him to stumble out of bed and hit his head hard on the nightstand. He cursed repetitively as he got up, rubbing his head.

Hermione muttered something and opened her eyes. They widened in horror as they found Fred and George, peeking in, identical mischievous grins on their freckled faces.

"Woo hoo!" Fred catcalled.

"So you two finally got it on?" teased George.

"BOYS!" Mrs. Weasley's angry voice reached their ears. "Leave Ron and Hermione alo—" She was cut off as she pushed past them and walked into the room. Her eyes flew from Ginny's bed, which was unoccupied, to Ron, who was standing in his pajamas, to Hermione, who was sitting on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes. Mrs. Weasley looked surprised, angry and, somehow, slightly amused, all at the same time.

"What is going on here?" Mrs. Weasley wanted to know. Ron gasped; he knew that his mother would assume the worst.

"Mum—no!" he cried quickly. "No, it's not what you think, it's just that, well, I couldn't sleep in my room, because—"—Harry might kill him if he told the truth, and they could tell it themselves, so he could bend it a little—"—because, um, well, I just couldn't…so I came here, and Ginny wasn't here, so I slept in her bed…"

"But I had a nightmare," Hermione cut in. "It was terrible, and—I asked Ron if he could stay here with me. Mrs. Weasley, we're so, so sorry, but…it really was awful, and…Ron and I aren't together, or anything, so…"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, worry lines creasing her forehead. "I understand. I'm sorry. And, please, dear, call me Molly…I've already told Harry to…and I wonder where Ginny went?"

"I'm right here," Ginny said bravely from behind them. She was standing boldly in the doorway, clad in her green nightgown, looking determined. "Mum, I was with Harry all night…but I promise you nothing happened. I promise. I-I just needed to be with him…"

"I don't think I need to remind you of our situation, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, appearing and putting an arm around Ginny, who was looking very upset. "I'm sorry, but Ginny's not coming with us, and—"

"It's all right," Mrs. Weasley said, holding up a hand to silence everybody and wiping a tear away from her eye. Harry hurried over to comfort the closest thing he had to a mother. The twins' happy expressions had long left their faces, leaving them sober and sad-looking.

"I'll fix breakfast," she said, and bustled away. The twins made a hasty departure, leaving Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny standing in Ginny's room in their nightclothes, feeling uncomfortable.

"I think Harry needs to talk with Ginny," Hermione said quietly.

Harry nodded. "Gin, after we change, can we go for a walk?"

Ginny bobbed her head up and down, trying to look happy but not managing it. Ron and Harry left quickly, leaving the girls to stare after them in silence for a long time.

* * *

When Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny were gathered around the table, Mrs. Weasley set warm plates heaped with sausages and eggs in front of them. She turned to Ginny, whose long hair was brushed and who was dressed as if she was accompanying Harry on his quest as well.

"Oh, Ginny…" she said sadly. "My little girl."

Ginny tried to ignore this, picking at her food gloomily. Ron shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth but couldn't seem to swallow properly. Hermione took tiny bits of sausage and let them drop back onto her plate aimlessly.. Harry seemed to have lost his ability to stomach anything. A heavy, depressing silence hung over them. Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Please eat something," she begged them. "You need it…goodness knows what you'll be eating…" She said it as if it was a comment of no real importance, but it seemed to bring back down to earth the harsh conditions which they might face.

They obliged silently, chewing with no emotion in their eyes, swallowing with some difficulty. When Ginny had had one full sausage and two large bites of egg, she shoved her plate away as if it was contaminated.

"I'll be outside," she said in a small voice. Harry looked at her sadly. What had happened to the happy, cheerful, spunky Ginny that he knew so well?

Harry stood to follow her, having eaten little more than she. "Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Weasley," he said politely, before hurrying after Ginny's retreating back, disappearing through the back door and out into the morning air.

Mrs. Weasley stared after them with a weary sigh. "My little girl," she repeated, in a shadow of a whisper.

* * *

After Ron and Hermione had given up eating anything several minutes later, it was time to pack. They trudged slowly up the stairs, not making eye contact, each mired in their own swamp of thought.

Ten minutes later, they had managed to fit everything they could into the backpacks that Hermione had provided (she had had to explain their function to an amazed Ron). Upon reaching the bottom step, they could see Mr. Weasley sitting in the kitchen with a steaming mug in front of him, looking out of the window. Ron and Hermione approached him cautiously.

"Dad?" Ron asked slowly. He jumped and turned.

"Oh, it's you, son," he said, as if he had been expecting somebody else. "I was just watching—" Mr. Weasley indicated out of the window. Ron and Hermione could see Harry and Ginny. Harry was holding her tightly. It was hard to tell from that distance, but they assumed that Ginny was crying; her shoulders seemed to be shaking uncontrollably.

"She's not the same Ginny anymore," Mr. Weasley said sadly. "I can't imagine what this is going to be like for her. She's being left behind."

"Dad…" Ron said uncomfortably. "This is important to Harry. I don't want her to go, either…I mean, she's too young…"

"She's only just becoming a woman," Mr. Weasley cut his son off. "She needs to have something to fight for."

Ron gave up, and sighed. "We—We should probably get ready to go." His voice was wobbling, despite his efforts to remain cool.

Mr. Weasley stood automatically. "Yes," he said unfathomably. "Yes, I suppose you should."

Ironically enough, when they emerged from the house, the sun was shining cheerful light on the world. However, it failed to lighten the spirits of the group of people gathered in the garden.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now, Harry mate," Fred said solemnly, shaking Harry's hand.

"Yeah. Thanks for…everything," George finished lamely, taking his turn. The twins then faced Ron.

"Keep your chin up, bro'," Fred said, clapping him on the back.

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do."

When the twins had bid Hermione goodbye, it was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's turn.

"Oh, Harry dear…" Mrs. Weasley burst into tears and hugged Harry tightly. "Be careful…"

"I will, Mrs. Weasley," he said, trying to be calm. Mr. Weasley shook his hand firmly and said nothing.

"Oh, Ronnie…my son…my little boy…" Mrs. Weasley clamped her youngest son into a hug, weeping. Ron could do nothing but return it.

"Mum…it's okay…we're going to be fine, okay?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded dumbly, taking a shuddering breath. Arthur then took his turn at hugging his son, while Hermione vanished in Mrs. Weasley's arms.

"Oh, my dear, please be careful…"

"I'm going to protect her," Ron said stubbornly, apparently not aware of what he was saying.

Mrs. Weasley nodded again. "I know, son. Keep each other safe. We're always watching over you."

Finally, Ginny emerged. "I-I'll miss you, Hermione," she choked out, hugging her friend. When they broke apart both girls had tears in their eyes.

"Erm…bye, sis," Ron said lamely. Ginny rushed forward and crushed him in a death grip.

"Oh, Ron…I'll miss you, too…I promise I won't move my stuff into your room while you're go—away…"

Lastly, Ginny was encircled in Harry's arms. "Please come back," she whispered. "Promise me you won't leave me. None of you will leave me."

"We promise," Harry said to her. Just as she broke away from him, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"I love you."

Then, with one last look behind them, the trio adjusted their backpacks, turned on the spot and vanished. They got one last glimpse of the people whom they might never see again before they felt the familiar rush of air and the terrible, yet wonderful sensation of another adventure.

* * *

**There you have it. This chapter was shorter—sorry! I had a really hard time writing the last half, and I really think it's too cheesy, but I hope you liked it…if you didn't I hereby give you permission to stop reading, and ask that you don't review just to tell me it's crap. If you do think it is but are above flaming, try to tell me in a nice way, and if you can't find anything at all good about it, then I suggest you just don't review. I'm not forcing you to, and I really don't want to get reviews that make me feel bad about my writing and about myself.**

**GryffindorRulez-Aw, thanks! A new supporter! Yay!**

**Jarno-I believe that I've said something in response to your review already, but I must add something. I cannot believe that you would say something like this with no way to back yourself up. What makes you think that way? I know that everybody has a right to his or her opinion, but when you say it like that I have really no idea where you are coming from. And a tip: before you start rambling about the faults of other people's stories, try writing one yourself. It isn't that easy. If you didn't like the story you could have just kept quiet about it. Your review did not help me to improve my story at all.**

**Sorry if I was a little harsh sounding, but I'm not going to let it slide. **

**Chapter 10 coming soon to a computer near you…**


	10. My Happy Ending

**I'm baaack. It's been a long time, I know, but please accept my apologies—my life is really crazy right now. I hope to be able to update more frequently, but I can't make promises.**

**VERY IMPORTANT NOTICE! This chapter will begin THREE DAYS BEFORE THE FINAL BATTLE. This means that it's been about a year. They've found all the Horcruxes, and Harry knows where Voldemort and his remaining cronies will be. (You'll find out who those "cronies" are later.)**

**Anywho, on with the show…

* * *

**

"How's he doing?"

Hermione's worried voice reached Harry's eardrums, stinging them. He ignored her.

"He's still…I don't know…" Ron looked upon his friend sadly. "He's just sitting there…maybe we should leave him alone for awhile…"

Harry managed to nod his head in agreement through the hazy mist of thoughts. Ron and Hermione edged away.

Harry sighed; his eyes were glazed over, expressionless and misty. The weight of all the information was too much to handle.

They were staying in an abandoned house, somewhere in the north of England. Harry knew Voldemort was not far away. He also knew that they would have to attack before he did, so the trio were waiting on tenterhooks for the moment Harry knew must come.

Harry continued to stare out of the window through the thick layer of dust that was a product of years of disuse, and didn't bother to wipe it away. His mind was swimming with images of a certain fiery redhead. Ever since leaving, Harry had written her as often as he could, using the brown barn owl Ginny had sent him. He couldn't afford to reveal too much in these, knowing how easily they could be intercepted. He tucked little notes for her in with the long letters to which he, Ron and Hermione all contributed, sent regularly.

He reached into his pocket unconsciously and pulled out the small, folded parchment, one of her most recent letters. Though he had read it over many times and now knew it off by heart, his blank eyes still traveled across the letter, taking in the words.

_Dear Harry,_

_It's been almost a year now since you left. You probably forget that, but I think about it every day. Life here isn't the same without you. Now that I'm off school it's lonelier than ever. _

_I've kept all the little letters you sent me in a box in my dresser. Every now and then I look at them and they make me feel better. I'm so glad to know that you're all safe._

_Well…not much is happening here. Yesterday Damien _(Fleur and Bill's baby boy was now nine months old) _spit up all over me when I was trying to get him to sleep. Luna's coming over in one week to keep me company, but it isn't the same. It's getting so that I even miss the annoying parts about you three!_

Harry laughed despite of himself. Ginny always found a way to cast a light on a dark situation.

_I miss Ron hogging the bathroom every morning. I miss Hermione always telling people off with her nose in a book. But most of all, I miss you, with that annoying little proud side._

Here several large splotches wrinkled the parchment where Ginny's tears had dripped. Her words were formed with shaky lines and blots of ink all over.

_I miss you more than I can say here. You gave your word that you were coming home…now I'm not so sure. I'm always with you, Harry. When you're fighting Voldemort (yes, now I'm not afraid to say it), think of me. Think about all of us back home who love you._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

Harry folded up the note and slid it back into his pocket with a sigh. He wanted so much to simply go home, but he knew this was not an option anymore.

It had never been an option.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione walked solemnly into the sad excuse for a living room. With a single sofa cushion for seating and a fire grate so old that it had been sprouting tiny blades of grass before their arrival, it couldn't be even called a room. More like a hovel. There was a singular piece of parchment, an ink-bottle and a quill sitting on the floor.

Ron followed her in and stared gloomily at the fireplace, flicking his wand so that a happy, cheerful flame sprung up in the grate and plopping down in front of it. The fire, dancing merrily, did not dampen their sour mood. It was the grounds for a row brewing in the distance.

Hermione flopped on the sofa cushion and a little cloud of dust shot out from several holes in it with a wheezing sound. Hermione dragged the parchment, ink and quill towards her and began to write. Ron wasn't consciously aware of this until a particularly loud pop from the fire made him jump. Hermione had filled the page with tiny, perfect writing.

He cocked his head at an odd angle, trying to see what she was writing. He read the first line and felt a familiar twang in his stomach.

"Dear Vicky," he said mockingly. Hermione looked up sharply.

"Don't call him Vicky," she said quietly.

"All right," Ron said, aware of the unnatural loudness of his voice. "How about Vicky-poo? Vicky-cuddles?"

Hermione reddened. "Stop it, Ron," she said, voice wobbly in her attempts to keep cool.

"Why should I?" Ron demanded of her, all the while regretting his words. "It's obvious how much you miss_ Vicky-kins_—"

"Ron," Hermione said dangerously. "You know we're just friends. Viktor is concerned about me—"

"That's not the way it looks to me," he retorted.

"Well, what does it look like then?" she said hotly, abandoning pretence and getting to her feet. "Why can't Viktor be concerned? Why can't I communicate with him at all?"

"Because he's obviously trying to manipulate you!" Ron yelled back, standing also.

Hermione froze. "He's not trying to do anything of the sort…"

"Oh, yeah! You say you're 'just friends'. Well, it's pretty obvious that dear Vicky wants a little more than friendship!" Ron spat.

"He respects me!" Hermione shrieked. "He treats me like…well, like I'm actually something! Like I'm different! Like…he values my time! He's told me! He tells me what he loves about me, and that…that's never happened to me before!"

"Then why don't you try getting off with him again?" Ron growled.

"Because—oh, it's so complicated…but…I like Viktor, very much, but…there's somebody else."

You could have heard a pin drop.

"S-Somebody else?" Ron said uncertainly. Hermione knew she'd found a loophole, and played along.

"Yes," she said firmly, squaring her shoulders. "I don't love Viktor. I never did, because all the time I was in love with another boy. I still am."

Ron looked taken aback. "You're—you're not serious," he stuttered. "You're l-lying to me."

"No, I'm not."

"Who is it?" he demanded sharply.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Hermione said in a very quiet voice.

"Fine," Ron said harshly. "Just fine. Bloody brilliant. You go off with this guy, and—"

"Ron." Hermione turned away from him, not wanting to look him in the eye anymore. "Viktor treated me like a lady. This guy never has. I don't stand a chance with him. But for some bloody reason I can't get over him."

"How do I enter the picture here?" he snarled, but she could hear his voice quavering. She whirled to face him, hot tears leaking from her eyes.

"What you said to me hurt, Ron," she said sadly. "It hurt a lot. You have no idea what I'm dealing with here."

"What _you're _dealing with?" said Ron incredulously. "Have you ever stopped to consider what _I'm_ going through?" He didn't want to let slip too much…

"How can you be so selfish?" she whispered. "How can you worry about yourself? Sure, I've got my problems, but Harry is the one who needs us in this! Harry, our best friend! He needs our support, and I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to—"

It was as if Hermione had slapped him. He teetered on the balls of his feet, unstable.

"Selfish?" he repeated quietly. "Selfish? I'm doing this for Harry—and for you! If you only knew, Hermione—"

"If I only knew what?" she snapped. "What have you done for me?"

Ron felt a surge of anger. What had he done for her?

"I've protected you!" he exclaimed, astounded that she might think such a thing of him. "I was always there for you, whether you wanted it or not!"

"You're overprotective! If some guy so much as looks my way, you try to kill them! Sometimes I wish—I wish you'd just let me be!"

Ron stiffened. He felt angry tears well in his eyes and pushed them away. "Fine then," he said quietly. "If that's how you think of me, I will leave you be. If you don't want me around anymore, I won't be. I'm sorry if I hurt you. And...and if I don't hang around much anymore, I won't have the opportunity to hurt you."

And he turned and trudged away. Before she had a chance to go after him, the front door slammed.

She knew he had been wrong. But she'd jumped to conclusions. Her vision blurred with tears as she remembered the ones filling his eyes, his deep blue eyes. What she had said had obviously cut deep. She felt a swoop of regret as she remembered the words that had spewed from their mouths, searching to cause pain and hurt.

She gulped and sat down to collect herself. Suddenly, from behind her, she heard the ominous creak of a floorboard. Her heart sped up, and she looked around.

"Harry? Is that yo—" She was cut off as a cold, clammy hand was clamped over her mouth. She felt a terrible, dizzy sensation, and the last thing she saw in her mind's eye was a picture of Ron, with depressed tears in his eyes, before everything went black.

* * *

Harry sighed sadly. He had listened to Ron and Hermione's blazing row with a heavy heart. He'd also watched Ron storm out, and then silence for a while. Just when he had begun to worry about Hermione, there she had come, smiling as if nothing was wrong. He let her go with an odd feeling in his stomach.

* * *

Ron stomped out to the garden and perched on the bench that had long warped into an odd, twisted shape. He sighed, and stared up at the moon, which was just beginning to appear in the early night sky. He shivered.

A rustling of bushes behind him told him somebody was coming. Taking no chances, he jumped to his feet, wand at the ready.

"Umm…it's just me, Weasl—I mean Ron." Hermione's voice was unnaturally high-pitched.

So she was calling him by his last name now, Ron thought. She really was mad at him.

"Oh, it's just you, Hermione." Ron relaxed. "Sorry…instinct."

She smiled, but not the warm smile that Hermione usually wore. This was a twisted type of smile.

"Want to sit down?" Ron asked tentatively. Her smile widened.

"Sure." She sat next to him, eyes reflecting the shadow of the moon behind the wispy clouds.

"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

"Um…it's okay." Her voice went down about an octave on the last syllable.

"Are you alright?" he asked her worriedly. She nodded, smiling at him again. Ron's stomach churned with suspicion—this was not the Hermione he knew and loved. And there was only one way to find out if his hunch was correct. He slid his hand into his pocket, clenching his wand tightly.

"Um…did you hear? Dumbledore had all the books in the Hogwarts library burned!"

She looked indifferent. "About time they got rid of those useless things."

Absolute silence...

She didn't seem to have realized what she was saying. When she did, she stuttered, "I-I mean, um, that's terrible…" Ron felt a terrible swoop in his stomach.

This was not Hermione.

* * *

**Just a little cliffhanger there to keep you awake! Sorry for the short chapter. **

**Kamiangel-Wow, thanks for another great review! I do agree with you, Jarno said that they miss Ginny being funny and spunky, but those traits are not common when you're in that position, even for Ginny. Thank you for giving me your honest opinion. **


	11. Field Of Innocence

**Firstly, I need to make a VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT! YOU NEED TO READ THIS IN ORDER TO UNDERSTAND! Well…now that I have your attention, I realize that in the beginning of the last chapter I said that it began three days before the final battle. I AM CHANGING THAT. The events of last chapter led up to the final battle, which will be in the next chapter. I hope this doesn't confuse you too much!**

**Secondly, there's been some slight confusion as to chapter 10's title…well, some of you sharp-eyed readers may have noticed that a few of my chapters are named after song titles. Chapter 7 was _The Sweetest Thing _by U2, chapter 8…_When We Dance _by Sting, and chapter 10 was _My Happy Ending _by Avril Lavigne. If you've heard the song, the line actually says "So much for my happy ending". I was just listening to it when I wrote the chapter…I don't know really, maybe because the story's not over yet!**

**So, without further ado…

* * *

**

Ron leapt to his feet, fear filling his eyes. He whipped out his wand, aimed it at the girl still sitting on the bench, and yelled, "_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"_

She froze instantly with her wand halfway raised. Ron stared at her petrified form, breathing heavily.

"Ron!"

Harry came hurrying out of the house. Ron turned to him with an unfathomable gaze.

"What the bloody hell d'you think you're doing?" Harry asked angrily of Ron. Ron was still a little shaken up.

"Why did you Petrify Hermione?" Harry demanded, bending to pick up the frozen body.

"Harry—no!" Ron said hastily, finding his voice again. "That isn't Hermione!"

Harry straightened and looked at him disbelievingly. "Ron, just because you two rowed again—"

"It's nothing to do with that! I swear, that is not Hermione!"

"Sure, Ron," Harry chuckled. He pulled out his wand and, before Ron had had a chance to lunge at him, unfroze "Hermione". She blinked appreciatively at him.

"Thank you," she said, in that horribly high voice. Harry looked round at Ron angrily.

"Now look, you made her cry!" he exclaimed, obviously mistaking her tone to be one of somebody trying not to let out tears. "Hermione, can you remember why—"

"Harry, I really need to talk to y—"

"Not now, Ron, it's Hermione that I'm worried about…"

"THAT ISN'T HERMIONE!" Ron yelled. Harry fixed his eyes upon his red-haired friend, anger blazing in them.

"What makes you think so?" he asked incredulously.

"Because I heard her, she said she didn't care that the library at Hogwarts burned down when I told her about it!"

Harry looked surprised. "The library burnt down?"

Ron gaped at his friend, amazed at his lack of logic. "No, it didn't—I just made that up, because she didn't seem the same!"

Harry looked at the brown-eyed girl sitting on the bench with raised eyebrows. "She doesn't look that different to me."

Ron abandoned all pretence. "Look, Harry mate, would I lie about something like that? You've got to believe me! Please—I know that it sounds crazy, but it's really easy to just take Polyjuice Potion—and Voldemort's got most of the wizarding tricks in existence up his sleeve!"

Harry pondered Ron's pleading face and sighed. "All right. I'll give you a chance to see whether your hunch is correct. If you're wrong, then you owe Hermione an apology. But if you're right—" he paused here, looking rather frightened, "I owe you one. We should find out as quickly as possible, because if that's not the real Hermione, then—"

It felt rather as if somebody had forced up all the contents of Ron's stomach into his throat. He had completely forgotten what might have happened to the real Hermione.

"Well, Hermione, let's get back into—what the hell—?"

Ron followed Harry's gaze to the bench.

Hermione, or an exact physical replica, was gone.

* * *

Harry and Ron crashed through the thick grass towards the house. Harry was beginning to believe Ron's theory more and more.

When they rushed through the front door, it was to find a deserted room. A square of moonlight stretched across the floor, weakened by the dust covering the window through which the light was streaming. They ran into the next room…

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Ron and Harry's wands flew out of their hands. They whipped round, to find Hermione emerging from behind the door, wand raised, approaching them with a horrifying, maniacal gleam in her eye.

"Hermione—" Harry squeaked weakly.

"Once again, the Dark Lord's plans have succeeded," the girl cackled in a deep voice, which both boys recognized.

"Bellatrix…" Harry breathed, feeling fire roar in his chest. Of course…how could he not have believed Ron?

"Yes, Potter, that took a while." She laughed, a cold, high laugh that didn't reach her eyes. Ron stared at the girl before him. In physical form, she was the girl he loved, but when he looked into her eyes, he could see a glint of evil in them, and it made him shiver. He felt his hatred for Bellatrix rise considerably.

"You didn't fool me for a second," Ron growled, edging towards his wand. Bellatrix turned her newly brown eyes to him and smirked.

"You're weak," she spat at him. "You're a pathetic little boy."

"Pathetic?" he roared, now scrabbling on the ground. "I'll show you pathetic—"

"Ah-ah-ah," Bellatrix said in a sing-song voice. "You wouldn't hurt your dear Hermione, would you?"

"I would rather die than hurt her," Ron whispered. He had gotten to his feet, clutching his wand, but Bellatrix didn't seem to care.

She laughed again. "That can be arranged."

"I wasn't finished," he continued in a deadly voice. "I would never hurt her. But you aren't Hermione. I just have to look into your eyes to see the cowardly evil in them."

"Big words for a filthy blood traitor," she said with venom. Harry watched Ron as said boy's ears turned bright red. Harry could see a blazing hatred in his friend's eyes. Bellatrix was feeding his fire, and soon it was going to explode in her face…he could see Ron whisper a spell, and Harry's wand suddenly flew back into his hand. They exchanged a secret smile while Bellatrix ignored the fact that they were now armed.

"Don't you dare call Ron that again," Harry snarled at her. She turned to him, apparently having forgotten that he was there. She smirked again.

"_Don't you dare call Ron that again," _she said mockingly. Harry wanted so desperately to curse her with everything he knew, but for some reason something told him to stay put for now. Bellatrix, being Bellatrix, only had to start a monologue, and then they had her…

"It just goes to show how weak you are," she said quietly, eyes flickering between Harry and Ron. "All this time, and you haven't hexed me yet…"

Ron raised his wand in a furious rage and shot a curse at Bellatrix; she blocked it with a lazy flick of her wand. It still felt very strange for the boys to watch what looked like Hermione doing these things. But Ron looked closely; her hair was darkening to a gleaming black in streaks. His eyes widened.

"What're you staring at, you stupid little—" She reached a hand up to her hair, and felt a smooth lock. She fingered it and brought it to her eyes. Upon seeing the ominous raven color, she swore angrily. Harry and Ron knew that she had not taken enough potion for an hour. However, a split second later, she released the hair and cackled.

"No matter," she said happily. "There is no longer any need for me to reside inside the filthy Mudblood's body…uh-uh-uh, I don't think you want to be doing that…" She blocked the curses that both boys had shot at her.

"I'LL KILL HER!" Ron bellowed. Harry only barely managed to hold him back.

"What's the matter, Potty?" she sang; her eyes were resuming their heavy-lidded look. "Scared?"

"You wish," Harry said, trying to retain a light tone while being reminded of a scene back in his second year, and fighting to hold Ron back.

Ron stopped struggling upon seeing Harry's face, but his own still contorted with fury as he yelled, "WHERE'S HERMIONE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?"

"Oh, she's in good hands," cackled Bellatrix. "For now…"

* * *

Hermione woke with an aching head. Her vision was blurred as she sat up. She seemed to be sitting on something cold and hard. Blinking, she shook her head and tried to think back.

She remembered that awful row with Ron. And then…she couldn't remember anything else, no matter how hard she tried. Frustrated, she banged a fist down…and felt hard earth.

Scrambling to her feet, her head hit something above her with a painful thud. She swore and looked up, rubbing her head. About two inches above her head was a wooden beam, stretching across the top of the structure in which she now sat.

She reached into her pocket for her wand—but it wasn't there. She felt a horrible jolt in her stomach as she felt her way around. She seemed to be in some sort of tent. Yes, there was a flap there, and some light outside…she managed to crawl towards it, slid a hand in between the gap in the fabric and lifted the flap. Her eyes widened in fear and horror.

She was looking at some kind of circle of tents, with a large fire blazing in the middle. Tall, hooded figures were passing back and forth, causing the fire to flicker and cast horrible shadows on the tents. Her head gave a throb as she looked around wildly for some sign of normality. Suddenly, one of the cloaked people noticed her, and swiftly walked over.

"Well, well, well, Miss Granger." The poisonous voice reached her ears with a terrible edge. It was one she had hoped never to hear again.

Severus Snape lifted the hood of his cloak off and grinned maliciously at her. "Bellatrix did well."

Hermione felt as if an invisible hand was crunching her organs together; she was filled with horror as she thought about Harry and Ron, did they even know that she was gone?

"Lord Voldemort will be very pleased to see you," Snape sneered. "Come with me." He grasped her elbow and yanked her up painfully. She jerked her arm from his grip, disgusted.

"Don't you dare touch me," she spat. He smirked.

"I'm afraid you don't have much control over that," he said greasily. (A/N: Not in that way! He's just evil and wants to hurt her :P) He grabbed her arm again in a death grip and pulled her along, despite her protests.

"Struggle any more," he said smoothly, "and I may be forced to cause you bodily harm, which I'm sure you would rather avoid…if you had a choice in the matter." He leered unpleasantly at her. She turned her head so that he could not meet her gaze, but allowed him to drag her along, thinking it best to oblige. After all, there were many more of them, and she was unarmed and relatively defenceless…

"I have the Mudblood, my master." Snape's voice spoke suddenly. Hermione wrenched away from him again, and looked up into the horrible face of Lord Voldemort. Though her knees were knocking with fear, she drew herself tall, and tried to look calm.

"Ah, yes…" Voldemort said softly. "She's a pretty one, is she not?" He reached out a long, thin, bony finger and touched her cheek lightly. Hermione backed away, revolted.

"She's feisty, too," he said quietly. "Let us now see what she's thinking…" To Hermione's horror, she felt a strange calm fall over her. She tried to shut out thought, but somehow a wavy image of Ron's smiling face made its way to the forefront of her mind. No matter how hard she tried, vision after vision floated across her brain; the terrible sight of the Dark Mark, her parents, the Weasley clan, and, though she tried extra hard to keep out these particular images, Harry and Ginny, hand in hand, beaming, and her and Ron, laughing together, perfectly happy…

Finally, the haze vanished, and she was back in the campsite, Voldemort smiling with satisfaction.

"Ah, I see…you seem to have a certain affection for the Weasel boy…"

"No, I don't," Hermione denied quickly, trying to keep down the ferocious blush rising in her cheeks.

"And Potter…foolish Potter…he has succumbed to the always descending spiral called love…this will make him even easier to defeat." Voldemort chuckled and Hermione felt anger bubbling in her gut.

"What do you want with me?" she demanded. He laughed his cold laugh again.

"You are supposed to be the smartest witch of your age…and yet you cannot figure out why I brought you here? You are merely an…object, if you will…your friends will not let you die here, now will they? And in the meantime, you can provide me with some very useful information…"

"You're never getting anything out of me," Hermione snarled. He looked amused.

"Is that so…_Crucio!"_

Hermione couldn't help it; she screamed. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. She thought about Ron, Harry, Ginny…their smiling faces seemed to lessen the pain by a fraction…

And then, quite suddenly, it was over. Hermione was lying on the ground, feeling limp. She scrambled to her feet, mocked by the jeering of several Death Eaters who had stopped to watch the show.

"Did you like that?" Voldemort whispered. She shook her head, unable to find something to say. "Do you want me to do it again?" Another shake. "Well, then, perhaps you could answer a couple of questions for me…"

* * *

"Blocked again, Potter!" Bellatrix taunted, screaming with mirthless laughter. She was locked in combat with Harry and Ron both, and was merely parrying every blow instead of fighting back. "My, my, we need to brush up on our hexing skills…"

"WHERE IS SHE?" Ron bellowed. Bellatrix turned to him, wand raised; she shot a curse at him, which he managed to duck just in time.

"Tut, tut…you think I am going to tell you when you use that tone of voice?" Bellatrix said haughtily.

For a split second, the scene seemed frozen in time in front of Harry's eyes: Bellatrix, laughing mercilessly; and Ron, who was rushing towards her, all thoughts of using his wand apparently forgotten…then time sped back up to normal and Ron was attacking Bellatrix, trying to close his hands around her throat. Bellatrix looked surprised and started aiming hexes at him, trying to fend him off: Harry could only watch, not cursing Bellatrix for fear of hitting Ron instead. But as he watched his best friend violently swipe for the woman's throat, he realized the lengths to which Ron would go for Hermione…he didn't want to stand around, either, as he had a sudden memory of Sirius' lifeless body, falling backwards through the fluttering, tattered veil, and Bellatrix laughing heartlessly, watching him…

He felt a surge of rage towards the woman, and he too launched himself on her, but before he reached her Ron's fingers made their way to her neck. She gasped and spluttered, choking; she kicked out, hit Ron in the stomach and he fell back with a groan of pain; Bellatrix shot a curse at him and he was blasted backwards, crashing to the floor after hitting the wall, motionless. Harry yelled and lunged, knocking her wand out of her hand; he pinned her to the wall, wand pointing directly at her heart.

She did not look afraid; on the contrary, she gave a manic smile, a trickle of blood running down her cheek from a cut.

"I'm going to kill you," Harry said quietly. She only smiled wider.

"You don't have the guts to kill me," she said in a hoarse voice. "You wouldn't kill anything to save your own skin."

"I'm not saving my own skin." Harry held up a warning finger when Bellatrix shifted, obviously planning an escape. "I'm saving my friends."

You're not a killer, said a small voice inside his head.

That little voice was right…he was not a killer…save for Voldemort…if he killed him, he would complete the prophecy, unless of course Voldemort killed him instead…but now was not the time to be thinking of such things…he straightened his back firmly, and kept his wand at Bellatrix's heart. He could not think of a single human being (Voldemort's only half-human now, really) who deserved to die more than she and her fellow Death Eaters. An eye for an eye, really…

But did he want to become a killer? Well, of course not. He had been destined to kill Voldemort, however, so how would killing one of the people who had helped him rise into power be a big deal?

His thoughts were interrupted by another cold laugh. "Even when Potty's got me defenceless he doesn't have the nerve to finish me!" Bellatrix cackled. Harry snapped his gaze back to her and made up his mind.

"_Cruci_—" He did not finish; she took the opportunity to drop to the floor, trying to reach her wand; he blasted it further away and pointed his wand once again at her. This time she was cowered on the floor, with many possible escape routes…Harry needed to do it as quickly as possible, and he didn't want her to die without experiencing some of his pain…

"_CRUCIO_!"

She twitched and yelled out in pain, though obviously trying to keep silent. Harry watched her, feeling a mix of terrible satisfaction and regret. When she finally stopped writhing, she fixed him with a maniacally happy eye.

"You're actually going to kill me, then?" she panted. "The Dark Lord will know that I died in honor…"

Harry couldn't believe this. She was happy…?

Suddenly, she leapt to her feet, and lunged at her wand. Harry, taken aback by her sudden movement, did not react quickly enough, and as a result she now stood before him, wand in hand, ready for a duel.

"Imperio!" she yelled. Harry attempted to block it, but had started to feel that familiar dreamy sensation…

_Kill the Weasel._ Harry knew how to fight this.

_No. I'm not going to._

_Kill him. Now._

_I WON'T!_

Harry shook his head, a triumphant grin on his face. Bellatrix looked angry.

"_Cruci—"_

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Harry yelled the spell as he aimed his wand wildly at Bellatrix. She had a momentary look of shock on her face before there was a huge flash of green light and she was lying, crumpled, on the floor.

Harry stood in silence, unable to believe what had just happened. He had just killed the woman who had murdered Sirius…who had tortured Neville's parents…who had caused so much pain and so many deaths…

"Harry?" croaked a weak voice from across the room. Harry span round; he had almost forgotten Ron was there.

"Ron! Are you okay?" he asked, hurrying over to see how his friend was doing.

"Yeah, fine," Ron said, standing with some difficulty and brushing himself off. "Only got a bump on my head…it aches something horrible, but other than that…where's Bellatrix?"

Harry gulped; Ron did not yet know what had happened, then…he must have only just woken up…

"Erm…Ron, I-I killed her," Harry choked out, sinking to the floor.

Ron seemed speechless. "You killed her?" he repeated, as if to assure himself of this.

Harry nodded, feeling numb. His head dropped so that he was staring at his lap.

"I can't believe it…I actually killed Bellatrix…"

Ron sat next to him and waited until Harry looked up. When he did, Ron spoke quietly.

"You know that I would've done the same thing…"

Harry bobbed his head again. "We need to get to Hermione…I'm certain that Voldemort has her…"

Ron bit his lip, nodding. "I-I just hope that she's okay…"

Surveying his friend's face, Harry said, "Me too."

Suddenly, Ron buried his head in his hands. "I can't believe that the last thing I said to her was that I wasn't going to be there to protect her all the time…and now…I might never be able to tell her…it's all my fault…"

"No, it's not," Harry retorted firmly. "It's not all your fault and you know it. This is our faults…all of us. But right now, our priority is Hermione."

"I know." Ron got to his feet and Harry followed suit. "I-I just wish I could've told her that-that…"

Harry put a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder. "She's going to be okay," he said, attempting a reassuring smile. Ron sighed.

"I suppose you're right. But we need to find her. So let's go."

* * *

"_CRUCIO!"_

Hermione dropped to her knees for the fifth time, writhing and screaming. She could just make out the blurry figures of the Death Eaters standing in a circle around her through her eyes filled with tears.

When Voldemort released her from the curse, he surveyed her quietly, tapping his long fingers together.

"Hopefully now you'll cooperate," he said softly. "I asked you, how many Horcruxes has Harry Potter found?"

"I told you, he hasn't found any!" Hermione exclaimed desperately, trying to focus on Ron's face, smiling at her…

"You are lying," he said venomously. "Nagini is gone. Potter has destroyed her. I know so."

"All right, Harry's found Nagini, and we destroyed it, but that's the only one—"

"I believe you've gotten a healthy dose of the punishments I give for liars," Voldemort said, his voice rising. "I don't want to torture you into insanity before my questions are answered…so let's move on. What does Dumbledore know about me?"

Hermione looked up, resolute. "I'm not telling you anything," she said quietly. "You can torture me all you like, but I'll never betray Dumbledore or Harry or anybody."

Voldemort pondered her stony features for a moment, then spoke.

"You do not understand my power. You cannot comprehend it. You have only received a small taste of it…if you cooperate, and give me what I want, I will not be forced to unleash my full powers on you…"

* * *

"How are we going to find her?" Ron asked of Harry.

"I don't know," Harry replied. The two were walking down the street of the small hamlet, on the base of the hill. On the top, the abandoned house seemed to leer down at them. "Maybe we could find somebody to ask…"

"Oh, that would go well," Ron said darkly. "'Excuse me, sir, did you see a group of tall, hooded figures walking round here with a teenage girl?' Anyway, there's nobody out now, it's eleven at night…"

Suddenly, a loud CRACK ripped the air behind them. Stopping in their tracks and spinning round, they saw Dumbledore standing there, obviously having just Apparated. He looked mildly surprised at seeing Harry and Ron there.

"Oh, well, this is convenient," he said, apparently more to himself than to Harry and Ron. "I had hoped you'd be around here…"

"Headmaster? What're you doing here?" Harry demanded to know—despite the fact that he was happy to see Dumbledore, it was rather unnerving to have people Apparating behind you in the middle of the night. The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched upwards.

"You seem to need some help in finding Voldemort," he said succinctly, striding over to them.

"Yes, well, we were going to look for him ourselves, but this is kind of an emergency…sir, they took Hermione, and we don't know…"

Dumbledore held up a wrinkled hand. "I am aware of Miss Granger's unfortunate position, Mr. Weasley. I have come to help you."

"Headmaster, sir…we need to…I need to do this alone…"

"I am also aware of that," Dumbledore said. "I am here to aid you in finding the Dark Lord, not fight him. I would not go against your wishes."

Harry nodded. "Can you tell us where he is?"

"I can show you," Dumbledore smiled. "If you'll just take my elbow…"

Ron and Harry obliged, and one second later, they were being compressed through a familiar shift in time, gripping Dumbledore's arm tightly on either side. After a few seconds, they appeared in what looked to be a wood. Harry and Ron immediately took their wands out and whispered "Lumos" so that light emitted from them. Dumbledore smiled grimly at them.

"I will be going with you in spirit," he said calmly. Where have I heard that before, wondered Harry. "I wish you all the best."

"Th-Thank you, sir," Ron said, apparently losing some of his nerve.

"If you just head in that direction—" Dumbledore pointed to the left, "—and walk for about five minutes, you will arrive at the camp in which Voldemort and his…group are staying. I've taken you here so that you may make a safe, quiet approach. Once again, good luck."

"Thanks," Harry said, but before the word had escaped his mouth Dumbledore had turned on the spot and vanished. Ron shivered.

"I'm scared, Harry," Ron squeaked. Harry, turning to his best mate and finding a terrible fear in his eyes, found that he felt exactly the same way.

"I know," Harry agreed sadly. "But, Ron, when you're fighting, think about Hermione, and about your family…the people you love. That's what I'll be doing," he added, thinking of Ginny's letter.

Ron nodded. "I'm ready."

"Let's go."

And they set off in the direction Dumbledore had given them, ready for whatever would face them when they reached their destination.

* * *

**VERY hard to write. I really hope you liked it. The name for this chapter was a song by Evanescence, whose songs I LOVE! Anywho…here are the responses for my great reviewers:**

**Freakyfinger-Thank you! I know, what dumbos would break up the Golden Trio? Yeah, the enemies of today just aren't what they used to be, huh?**

**Kamiangel-Don't you worry, it's not all smooth sailing for RHr! It's part of who they are, right? Unfortunately, my life won't calm down for some time…thanks so much for your review!**

**DarkSlytherinPrincess-Thanks! I do try to let my creative juices do the thing for me:D**

**Hermron-I hope this chapter cleared everything up for you. And thanks for saying the fight was good, it took me awhile to write it so I'm glad you enjoyed it!**


	12. My Immortal Angel

**Author's notes:** I'm back! I am so, so, so, _so _incredibly sorry for the delay. Honestly, I really tried to hurry, but what with everything that's been happening…don't hurt me, please!

Upon checking the stats page I found that I have 2350 reads and counting! I'm really honored that so many people are taking the time to at least open my fic, and hopefully read it. Thanks so much!

I will apologize in advance for any gaps in this chapter. It's proved itself to be _incredibly_ difficult to write—in fact, the hardest piece of fanfic I've ever done.

So, without further ado…

* * *

**Chapter 12 - My Immortal Angel**

Ginny sat up straight in bed, eyes wide. She relaxed slightly as she looked about her familiar room, bathed in moonlight. Slumping back onto her pillows, she tried to forget the dreams that had dogged her sleep patterns: terrible visions of figures clad in dark robes…Harry tied to a gravestone…a high-pitched laugh, a flash of light…

Yet sleep would not overcome her. She tossed and turned for some time before giving up on sleep entirely and walking to the window, staring outside at the mist that had descended upon them in the night …

When the sun finally began to peek out over the foggy horizon, Ginny rubbed her shadowed eyes and yawned. She showered and dressed silently, and was halfway out the back door when a noise behind her roused her from her bubble.

"Ginny dear?"

Ginny jumped, startled, and turned to find her mother standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a frayed robe and looking concerned.

"What's the matter?" her mother asked. Ginny sighed; she didn't feel like talking to anybody right now, and settled for the typical teenage response.

"Nothing."

Mrs. Weasley made a disbelieving cluck. "It's not nothing. You are my only daughter, and sometimes I can read you like a book, dear."

Ginny let another sigh escape her. "You're right, Mum…it's not nothing, but I don't want to talk about it right now." She turned away, and suddenly felt a surge of inexplicable rage well up inside her…

"I just wish…I just wish I could've gone, too!" Ginny cried, spinning round suddenly and catching her mother off guard. "I wish Harry and Ron and you and everybody weren't so protective of me! They've been gone almost a year, and every day I wish I could be there with them! I want to fight!"

Mrs. Weasley looked shocked as Ginny's words registered with her. "Oh, Ginny…" 

"I'm not a weak little girl anymore, Mum," Ginny spat.

Molly's eyes filled with tears. "I-I never knew you felt that way…why couldn't you have told me before?"

"Because Harry didn't want me there, either," Ginny said, softening a little. "Harry thinks that Voldemort—" Ginny ignored Mrs. Weasley's gasp and continued firmly, "I'm not afraid to say it, anymore…Voldemort could use me as bait. If he—if he found out about…us…but I want to go! I would rather die fighting than live while Harry…if Harry died…and Ron and Hermione…"

Ginny paused to collect herself, then went on. "I have as much to fight for as anybody, Mum…why can't I fight for it?" Tears were prickling in her own eyes now.

Mrs. Weasley looked down, unsure of what to say.

"You're holding me back, Mum," Ginny said desperately.

"I don't want to lose you," Mrs. Weasley whispered. Ginny's brow, formerly narrowed in frustration, unknitted slightly as Mrs. Weasley, a single tear running down her weary cheek, hurried to her only daughter and enveloped her in a hug. Ginny, despite all her anger, could not be angry at her mother and hugged her back.

"I'm already afraid…Ron…Harry…Hermione…" Molly was speaking over Ginny's shoulder. "I don't want to lose you," she repeated. Ginny pulled away sharply.

"Mum, I know you're scared…but you've got to let me do things on my own. I can't live in your shadow forever. I know I'll always be your little girl, but I need freedom. I need to make my own decisions."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, gulping. Ginny looked her mother in the eye.

"Will you let me go?"

* * *

Ron and Harry crashed through the underbrush. The moon hung overhead like a ghostly Galleon, illuminating their faces in harsh shadows with its weak rays streaming through the branches of the close-together trees. The dark night sky was pierced with wispy little clouds. Off in the distance an owl hooted.

Suddenly Harry made up his mind and stopped running. Ron, who had been at his heels, halted sharply behind him.

"What is it?" Ron asked. Harry sighed and faced his friend.

"Look, mate…I'm sorry I didn't believe you earlier…I should have known that you know Hermione better than anybody."

Ron shrugged. "It's okay. All that matters now is getting to Hermione." He paled. "I just hope…I just hope we're not too late…"

"We won't be," Harry said firmly, even though his voice wobbled a little. "Hermione's strong."

"If he's hurt her…" Ron's voice trailed off in mutters as he drew his wand out of his robes, clutching it tightly. For a fleeting second, Harry regarded Ron's angry, hard features, then watched them soften and sag as they were replaced with a sad, almost desperate look.

"She's…she's everything to me, Harry," Ron said brokenly. "If we lose her…what will I do?"

Harry contemplated Ron's words, then wondered what he would do were it Ginny in Hermione's place. He shuddered slightly, and gripped his wand tighter.

"C'mon," he said, turning away. "The sooner we get there, the sooner…"

But he did not complete his sentence, and the two proceeded in silence, leaving Ron's unanswered question to linger between them.

* * *

"The Mudblood is trying my patience." Voldemort addressed the circle of Death Eaters, gesturing to Hermione, who was now finding it difficult to remain standing at all. Her knees and palms were bleeding from the scrapes she had received falling on the ground repetitively, and her head was throbbing painfully, but she would not give Voldemort the satisfaction of seeing her cower on the ground, nor the information he wanted.

The Death Eaters cackled in unison, tightening the ring around Hermione and causing her to cringe. Suddenly, one of their number yelled and stiffened, toppling to the ground like a rigid statue. The other hooded figures whirled around, and Voldemort hissed angrily.

"What is the matter with Alecto?" Voldemort asked silkily.

"Petrified!" growled another Death Eater. Hermione could just barely make out a tiny bit of red hair sticking out from behind a tent before it vanished, and then she understood. Taking advantage of her captor's averted attention, she began to edge away—but Snape noticed her and grabbed her by her long hair, throwing her to the ground. She skidded, splattering dirt all over herself and mixing it with blood on her hands and knees.

"Who is there?" Voldemort demanded. "Show yourself."

From behind the tent Harry and Ron jumped out, and immediately started throwing curses this way and that; Alecto, who had been released from the curse by who looked like her brother, Amycus, shot a spell at Harry, which he blocked…

Hermione watched the campsite exploded into chaos; ignoring the pain and weakness in her legs, she ran to the nearest tent, hoping to find her wand somewhere…

All of a sudden, she heard two voices outside of the tent; peeking out, she saw Amycus standing directly in front of her, blasting hex after hex at Ron; she instinctively grabbed Amycus' legs, and he toppled backwards; leaping out of the way, she watched Ron attempt to Disarm him. But Amycus seemed to have been ready for this; he dodged it and leapt over to Hermione, standing behind her and holding his wand to her throat. She shrieked, and Ron froze; she kicked back at him, and he doubled up, dropping his wand and squealing in pain. Ron screwed up his face in anger, and bellowed "SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Amycus gave a cry of pain as his robes ripped and blood spurted out. Hermione gasped audibly, but Ron pulled her aside, surveying her dirty, bloodstained face.

"What did they do to you?" he wanted to know anxiously. Hermione shook with fear as she remembered it.

"They—oh, Ron, they—"

But she never finished her sentence; she could see Snape behind them, and pulled Ron down just in time to dodge the curse he shot at them.

"No time to be lovebirds!" Snape taunted, a horrible grin on his face through the curtains of grease that was his hair. Hermione and Ron straightened, and Ron tried to Disarm Snape; he blocked it.

"Run, Hermione!" Ron yelled to her. "Go! Find your wand! Just run!"

Hermione obeyed, and ignoring the stabs of pain that shot through her, ran as fast as she could towards another tent. Just as she approached it, the sky erupted with a huge BOOM of thunder, and rain began to drizzle down. As it did this, Hermione made for the tent flap.

Suddenly, somebody Apparated right in front of her, and she collided with them. Stumbling back, she saw Lupin standing there, looking determined.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "Dumbledore said—you'd been captured—he told us, the Order, to come help—"

"Remus, I need to find my wand!" Hermione yelled desperately, not even sure why she was saying it. Remus nodded, and raised his own.

"Accio Hermione's wand!" he proclaimed. Seconds later, her wand came flying through the air towards her. After she managed to catch it, she had barely enough time to thank Remus hastily before he was thrown into combat with a tall, thin Death Eater. She glanced around; there was Tonks, her normally bright pink hair that was now a depressing shade of black and very long flying in front of her face as she fought Alecto; Mad-Eye Moody was fighting, too, and several other members of the Order; then she saw Neville and Luna appear. Her heart swelled in pride as she watched her friends throw themselves into battle, before charging through the heavy sheets of rain and readying herself to fight for everything she'd ever wanted.

* * *

"CRUCIO!" Ron screamed. Snape didn't have time to duck, and fell to the ground, writhing. When he recovered, he raised his wand and muttered something. Ron attempted to block it, but suddenly felt himself being lifted in the air, landing with a painful thud several feet away. Snape dived for Ron's wand, which was embedded in the wet mud several feet away, but Kingsley Shacklebolt picked it up, tossed it to a now-standing Ron and hurried off to block a curse from another Death Eater. Ron turned back to a furious and muddy Snape, and felt all the fury he'd ever felt towards the former Potions master boil and rise in his chest until it became a roaring feeling. He drew back his wand, and yelled, "SECTUM—"

He didn't finish; Snape yelled "Expelliarmus!" and Ron's wand flew from his hand again; he flung himself on the ground and retrieved it. By the time he'd rolled over, he found Snape standing over him, pointing his wand at Ron's chest. Ron scrambled to his feet before Snape could do anything, feeling the rain drench him once more.

"You dare use my own spell against me?" Snape yelled, while a tent burst into flames behind them.

"You deserve everything you get!" Ron bellowed back, feeling his hatred for Snape swell even more (if possible) under the man's slimy smirk.

Then, without thinking about it, without knowing what he was doing, he waved his wand wildly and yelled, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

There was a moment of indescribable silence, and then…

The spell hit Snape squarely in the chest: face frozen in a mixture of disbelief and a twisted smile, he was blasted off his feet and crashed down into the thick, rain-washed mud. Ron stared at the man's crumpled body in disbelief. Had he really killed him? There was no time to think about things now, though…hexes were flying, tents were blazing to the ground despite the cold, unrelenting rain and filling the already darkened sky with black smoke, and his friends needed him. He charged back into the heat of the fight, ready to defend everybody at all costs.

* * *

"COWARD!" Harry bellowed after the retreating Lucius Malfoy. He sped off to follow him—but suddenly, his foot caught on something limp and he fell forwards. Spitting mud out of his mouth and staggering quickly to his feet, he stole a glance back to see what he had tripped over. He could just barely see, by squinting through his muddy, rain-washed glasses, Snape's lifeless form, sprawled in the dirt. His eyes widened, but he did not have time to contemplate anything. He turned back around and made to rush after Lucius…

…and ran straight into Ginny.

He stumbled back in surprise. She whirled around, red hair already splattered with rain, to see who had run into her.

"Harry!" she cried. Harry was shocked.

"Ginny!" he yelled back at her above the jeers and screams. "Why are you here? Why did you come?"

Ginny's face crumpled as she scanned his torn, wet and muddy clothes, then hardened again. "I'm fighting, too!" she exclaimed. Harry shook his head hastily.

"No—no…you can't…"

"Don't tell me that I can't fight!" she shrieked. "I have just as much right as you do! I want to fight for the people I love, too! Don't you dare send me away again, Harry, because I'm here and I'm not going anywhere! I'd rather die fighting than live without…"

She drew a breath and did not complete the sentence. Harry stared at her, seeing her eyes sparkle with tears and feeling his own prickling dangerously. He ran towards her, not thinking. She stood there resolutely, now almost thoroughly soaked, but clutching her wand, a driving expression on her face as tears mixed with rain on her cheeks. Harry had never really loved her more.

Harry nodded dumbly, while fighting the urge to take her in his arms; he was sure that nobody could hear them talking, and Voldemort might have somehow got wind of anything about them, but a scene like that would seal whatever beliefs Voldemort had, and would single Ginny out as a prime target.

Ginny was, apparently, thinking along the same lines; the expression on her face said it all. But they merely exchanged wishes of good luck and went their separate ways. Harry glanced back over his shoulder as she dove into battle. He couldn't tell himself that this had been unexpected; Ginny did have a fighting spirit…what had she said? I'd rather die fighting than live without… Harry was sure she was referring to him, Hermione and Ron. This was hard for him to argue: she did have the right to battle…

But if anything happened to her…what if she died, and he lived? Would he be able to cope with the loss, and move on?

Cope, yes…but you couldn't move on, a little voice inside his head whispered. Harry shook the thought away—it was too much to bear. It was too late to stop Ginny, and he couldn't protect her—he had to let her fight on her own. Somehow, he knew this—as if she had communicated with him telepathically. But would this be enough?

* * *

The battle was, clearly, coming to an end. The booming thunder had long since resounded for the last time, and the rain had ceased to fall. The few tents that were not charred and burnt were playing host to rapidly dying fires. The echoing shouts and yells had subsided considerably. But despite this, Ron felt more fear and worry boiling inside his chest than he had ever known possible. It was ending. It was all down to this, and nothing more, than decided their fate. Harry was engaged in a ferocious battle with Voldemort, and as Ron's eyes flew over the scene, he regretted ever feeling jealousy towards his friend. Though Harry did have lots of money and fame, Ron wouldn't give anything at all to be the Boy Who Lived.

He moved forward to send a blast in Alecto's direction, stumbled and fell. He sprawled in the mud and felt her presence, standing over him. Her cold laugh echoed in his ears. Ron knew she could kill him easily, but somehow he felt numb and deprived of all feeling. He couldn't think; all he could do was lie there on his side and wait for the blow.

Suddenly, another voice shrieked an indistinct spell and Ron saw, with the aid of peripheral vision, Alecto falling backwards. He was seized by the shoulders, yanked up into a sitting position, and shaken violently. When the world came back into focus, however, he could see Hermione kneeling next to him, eyes shining with tears. Ron felt a terrible rush of guilt—she had saved him from death when he had done nothing to prevent it. Indeed, her brown eyes narrowed in fury.

"What d'you think you were doing, exactly?" she questioned ferociously, but the effect was distorted by her wobbling voice and the fat teardrops rolling down her cheeks, promising a steady stream. "You could've…and you didn't do anything about it! What do—why—why don't you care? Don't you care what would happen if you died? Don't you care enough about Harry? Ginny? _Me_? How can you think that—"

"I'm sorry," Ron said quietly. "I-I don't know what…I didn't feel…I wasn't even—I wasn't there! I mean, I was, but I didn't…I felt sort of emotionless, numb…"

"I thought you cared!" Hermione gasped. "I thought you knew how much you mean to me! I don't think you do, do you?"

Ron didn't even have time to contemplate her words. "I killed Snape, Hermione!" he bellowed. "I killed him! He was…he was trying to kill you! He would've without even thinking about it! I couldn't stand it…_I killed him!"_

The last three words seemed to hit her one at a time; she swayed back and forth, and her eyes swam with a fresh wave. "Ron…I didn't…oh, I'm so, so sorry…"

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Ron said sadly. "How do you think I would feel…if he'd killed you…and the last thing I said to you was that…Hermione, I didn't mean what I said. I will never stop being there, unless you want me to. I just can't…I couldn't lose you. That's why I killed Snape…well, partially."

"I don't know if you heard me before," Hermione said, looking him in the eye, "but I asked you if you knew how much you mean to me. Do you? Do you know what kind of a state I would be in if you…if you died, or if you left, or…"

"Hermione," Ron said seriously, grabbing her hand from where it still rested on his shoulder. He was going to have to—it was now or never. "I-I have to tell you something."

But at that precise moment, a jet of light flew over their heads and both leapt to their feet immediately. Ron felt another jolt of terror as nearly everyone still standing froze to watch.

The scene seemed to move in slow motion; Harry raised his wand above his head, a driven expression marring his features, and brought it down, screaming, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Green light exploded from the end of his wand, rocketed towards Voldemort, and somehow hit him squarely in the chest. He was flung backwards, landing with a terrible squelch in the mud. Harry's knees buckled and he fell, hands out in front of him. Kneeling, his breathing steadily slowed and relaxed, while Ginny ran to him and held him. The two remaining Death Eaters were rooted to the spot for a split second; then began to run, shooting hexes wildly behind them as they made for the forest. Hermione managed to block the first…

…but the second found its mark.

She collapsed beside Ron in a motionless heap. He followed Harry and Ginny's lead and got to his knees next to her, information crashing into his mind, invading, overflowing, penetrating. This couldn't be happening.

It was all over.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Deep breath—_whew! _There you have it. Finally. As I say, this chapter took the longest time to write and I still don't think it's up to snuff. Let me know!

**Kamiangel: **Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! I love reading your reviews! Hm…my computer wanted to correct your name as Commingle…that's strange.

**Freakyfinger:** I never can figure out your reviews! I hope I didn't upset you with Harry's reaction…

**Troubled Tazzy: **Good to know you're still there!

**Hermron: **It's great to see a new supporter! Thanks for your input.

**Featherfinger: **Why is it that everybody thought it was Draco? Actually, now that I think about it, that might have been a possible option…but I had Bellatrix in my mind from the start.

**GryffindorRulez: **Thanks for pointing that out.

**Bunnyprincess: **You have _no _idea how terribly sorry I am. You didn't deserve that, but unfortunately I was having a bad day and feeling very grumpy, and seeing another no-reviewer on the stats page just drove me over the edge. I really hope you can accept my apologies, and as soon as you post another chapter on that story I'll take back the last two reviews. Thanks so much for your nice comments. I hope you'll keep reading!

**Cutehelenjames:** I'm very glad you liked it…

**Holly123: **I feel a little overwhelmed…just kidding (I think)!

**GoldenHeartsForever: **Ditto.


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